Closer
by On the Darker Side
Summary: AU where Chloe Decker had left her job as a detective to become a professor, teaching intro to criminal investigation, after a particularly brutal run-in with a suspect. On her first day, she meets a rather handsome, eclectic, and foreign student that throws her off guard (any guesses?). A slow-burn type of relationship. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, so here's my first take on an AU for this fandom. I hope it works out for you guys. This first chapter is shorter, more like a little preview for what I have planned. Future chapters would be longer. Give me a review and let me know what you think so far. I plan for this to be a slow-burn kind of story, so be patient with it. Un-beta'd. I might have a short SMUT piece up in the near future, just to tide anyone over. I hope you enjoy!

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I See You

(Working Title)

Another day, another dollar. Except, this dollar came from different hands. This was her first day at her new job. A job that she hadn't decided if she was going to regret. Instead of taking down the miscreants of society, she would be molding their young minds. That was correct. Detective Chloe Decker was now Professor Chloe Decker. _That would take some getting used to._ It appears those late nights of continuing education really helped when she needed to, abruptly, change careers.

She could still remember the tears streaming down her daughter's face when she was visiting her in the hospital. She had been beaten within an inch of her life by a suspect she was searching for. She had suffered a concussion, internal bleeding, broken ribs and jaw. Her daughter had come to visit after a few days, but she still looked horrible, but Trixie just would not stay away any longer. That broken voice falling from a tear stained face had begged her to stop. To stop being a cop, to stop doing such a dangerous job. Seeing her so broken and so upset had forced her hand. She promised to stop, to do something less dangerous. So, here she was, at the University of Southern California, teaching Intro to Criminal Investigation to a bunch of undergrads. _The things you do for your child_.

In this job she was far less likely to get shot, or beaten, and it made her daughter happy. She could get used to the slow-pace of teaching. She did, after all, teach a child to talk and walk, so how hard could this be? As much as she hated it, she had gotten the job easily because the dean of the university was an old acting-school friend of her mother's, also, they had seen her movie. She had given up acting at the ripe age of 19. Being young hadn't stopped her from agreeing to a nude scene, and now everyone that had seen her movie had seen her boobs. It either helped or hindered a situation. In this case, it helped. Luckily, most the students she would be teaching would be too young to have grown up with that movie.

She was early, needing time in the large stadium-like room to reduce her nerves. She shouldn't be nervous, but she was. Chasing down criminals, filing the paperwork, interviewing witnesses, and interrogating suspects came easy to her, she was comfortable in that field. Teaching, standing in front of a room, in front of a group of people that really didn't want to be there, was nerve-wracking. She couldn't force them to listen to her, she couldn't threaten them with jail time, all she could do was hope that they would listen and learn something. This was definitely new territory for her.

The podium was sleek and acrylic. Completely see-through. Chloe didn't think too much on it, assuming it was probably a bit cheaper than a more solid piece, however, it did leave her feeling exposed. Any student would be able to see her jeans, heeled boots, LAPD t-shirt, and black blazer. Perhaps it was to give off transparency between teacher and student, the illusion that no one was hiding anything. In front of her, the rows of seats she knew wouldn't be filled, probably just the first three rows with empty seats scattered throughout. She was teaching a morning class, 9:20 am, which was early for the college-aged crowd. She figured there wouldn't be many people looking to take this class, opting for the much later 1:00 pm class that was taught by a more senior professor.

She paced the room for an hour, trying to make herself more comfortable in the foreign environment. She watched as a single, nervous-looking boy walked in, not even looking at her as he found a seat close to the door. It was, slightly, reassuring that he seemed just as nervous as she was. It was ten minutes before the class was supposed to start, slowly but surely students began trickling in, some looking scared, others talking to friends and smiling. A few of them had spared her a glance, but nothing that was more than just a notice. _Perfect_. She would have to really work for their attention.

With two minutes to show-time, she walked back to the podium, pulling out the teacher's edition of the text, as well as the curriculum. Today was supposed to be an introductory day. Meet the teacher, meet the students, and go over what this course was about. She could manage that. Sweet and simple, perhaps she would let them out early, get on their good side. Bribery always worked with suspects. She had noticed that a few more people walked in, the last closing the door behind them. _I guess that is my cue to start? _

"Good morning everyone, I know you must be thrilled to be here at this hour," she greeted, forcing herself to look up at the small crowd. There was probably twenty, twenty-five people in the room. She was given a roster of 30, so not a bad turn-out for day 1. She received a few greetings back, mostly grumbles, some just ignored her. Years of child-acting prepared her for such a reaction. "I'm Chloe Decker, Professor Decker, I guess. Welcome to Intro to Criminal Investigation."

Nothing. Not a single noise was emitted from the young minds in front of her. She flipped through her curriculum and planner nervously, unsure of what she was supposed to say to them. Was she supposed to go straight into it? Was she to make them stand up, one at a time, and introduce themselves? No, that was something her daughter would have to do in school, not for a group of 18 and up.

"Until recently, I was a homicide detective with LAPD," she added, noticing the few heads turn up to look at her. That seemed to get, some, of their attention. "Any questions for me before we begin?" She looked around, seeing if any of the heads that looked up appeared interested in learning more about her.

"Why on Earth are you here, then?" an accented voice asked from the far corner of the room. _That was surprising. _She had expected maybe a question or two about dead bodies, but not about why she was teaching.

She turned to her right, looking for the owner of that voice. Was he British? Her eyes landed on the only person it could have been. Other students were looking right at him, almost in awe, and she couldn't blame them. Leaned back in his chair, one long arm slung across the back of the chair next to him, the other resting on the desk in front of him, hand fiddling with a pen. She first noticed the way he dressed: slacks (she thought), dark grey button down shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms, dark, scruff covering his defined jaw, and dark eyes. He appeared completely put together, perhaps a little older than the others around him, but he was incredibly attractive.

He took her off guard, face still poised quizzically, and waiting for her answer. "Professor?" He couldn't help the small smile forming on his lips. He knew he threw her off. She wasn't expecting a question like that. He was sincerely interested in why a young detective would switch from a life of fighting crime to a life of talking to unappreciative brats.

"Um, yes," she started, inwardly shaking herself. _Keep it together. You've seen good-looking men before. _"You want to know why I'm here, teaching?"

He chuckled a little, taking his arm off of the back of the chair and leaning on his elbows on the desk, joining his hands together. "Yes, why be here when you could be catching the vile creatures in this city of yours?" Even with a smug grin on his face, he seemed genuine.

It was the accent that was throwing her off. Had to be. She hadn't been expecting a foreign student in her course, that's all. "I needed a change of pace," she replied, looking down at her text and curriculum, flipping through pages absentmindedly.

"You don't seem like someone to run from danger," he remarked, tongue in cheek. She looked back up at him, to those eyes that seemed to be digging into her soul. _Who the hell was this guy?_

"You don't know me, Mister?" she trailed off, hands going to her hips defensively. She was not about to be intimidated by a student on her first day.

"Lucifer Morningstar," he replied, bowing his head slightly. The other students were staring between them, shifting their gaze from her to him as if watching reality TV right before their own eyes. A few of the girls near him giggled a little, making her want to roll her eyes.

"Really?" she asked, her voice thick with sarcasm. Being in L.A. meant you ran into some interesting people, but that name? Why would you choose that name?

"God given," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He seemed annoyed; it probably wasn't the first time someone questioned his name.

"Okay," she said, squinting her eyes and glaring at him before turning to the front of the class. "So, Mr. Morningstar, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to continue with the course for today." She saw him, from the corner of her eye, hold up his hand, motioning her to continue and leaned back in his seat.

Chloe looked down at her notes and informed the class on the faculty expectations, the syllabus, and the overall layout of the next few weeks. She didn't bring up anything heavy, nothing regarding specific content of the course, she just wanted the students aware of the work due, when it was due, and how to contact her if they had any questions. Luckily, the hour went by smoothly after the somewhat rocky introduction. Typically, a question like that would not have affected her. She would have answered and moved on. His observation was unnerving. How could he tell she didn't really want to leave her job as a detective? How could he see that she liked the fast-paced days and nights working with LAPD?

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. She didn't need to dwell on one student. She had many that needed her attention, and the next class would actually cover content from the text. She turned the lamp off on her desk, the small desk she was given that went in her small office next to the lecture room she shared with another professor. As she walked out the door, she looked at the brass name plate on the wall and sighed: Prof. Chloe Decker. That was definitely different from the Det. Decker that she used to have on her old desk at the precinct.

* * *

She arrived home that evening, after spending the remainder of the day working on her next lecture and going from one board meeting to the next. She was alone, Trixie was with her father for the next two days, so Chloe was alone and able to do anything she wanted. She placed her keys on the table, dropping her bag on the ground and walked into the kitchen. She poured herself a large glass of red wine, letting the liquid slide through her mouth thickly. She grabbed a Chinese take-out box from the fridge before sitting at the table, a single light on overhead. So, this is what it would be like from now on: long days of talking, sitting, more talking, answering questions, and then coming home. She shook her head as she took a bite of the cold chow mien, enjoying the sweet and salty taste of the noodles.

After another glass of wine and long, hot bath, she crawled into bed, lying awake for ages. She was tired, but not physically tired, not like she used to be when she collapsed into her bed. This was definitely a change for her. She could get used to it, she knew she could. For Trixie. That being said, it did slightly bother her that Dan got to keep his job, unwilling to stop for their daughter. Someone had to be the adult and make sacrifices for her.

She rolled over, trying to force herself asleep. As she shut her eyes, squinting them closed, a certain pupil popped up into her imagination. A tall body, well-dressed and groomed, dark hair and dark eyes, staring at her from across the room. She forced her eyes open, peering into the darkness. _Why was she thinking about him? _ She shook her head violently, trying to rid her mind of his features, and of the way his smirk made her feel warmer. That accent had been a surprise, a very nice surprise, she thought, chuckling at her ridiculousness. She was thinking about a student while trying to sleep. She really needed to pull herself together. Sighing loudly in the silence of her room, she let her eyes fall closed and her mind go still, thinking about her daughter and the chocolate cake she had promised her.

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**A/N: **Like I said, yes this was short, but future chapters would be longer. I was just wanting to get this idea out there and test the waters. Let me know what you think, suggestions are always welcome! Thanks for reading! Until next time...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Luckily, I had some time to write this for you. This is just a tad longer, but I think the length works for what happens. I hope you like this second chapter, it was fun to write! I look forward to what can come of this! Un-beta'd, so bear with me. Enjoy!

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Thursday mornings. The only day of the week she half looked forward to. Being incredibly new to the whole teaching thing, she was given one course, one day a week, to teach. _Thanks, Mom. _However, she was grateful for the income, even though it was a bit of a decrease from what she made as a detective. Just a bit. Thursdays she woke up early, five am, to leave her house by six, so she could be at the university by, at least, seven. This gave her plenty of time in case traffic was bad (which it could easily be), or if she forgot to prepare the night before. Two hours of calm before the storm of her lecture. As she let her mind wake up after the startle of the alarm, Chloe tried not to think about how boring her work days had become. It would be okay. She could get used to the down time. Plus, this meant more time with Trixie. That was worth it.

After a quick shower, she applied her usual makeup. Tinted moisturizer, brows, liner, mascara, and a soft pinky-brown lipstick. Fresh, professional. She tied her long, dark blonde hair up in a ponytail, her quintessential hard look for the suspects, equally necessary for entitled college kids. She slipped into her tight jeans, v-neck white shirt, and navy blue blazer. The boots with just enough heel completed her look. Luckily, being a plain-clothes detective allowed her the wardrobe for an ordinary job. Ready to start the day, she made her way downstairs to make coffee and breakfast for her and Trixie, knowing the young girl would be getting up soon.

She got in her car as soon as her daughter was on the bus, hoping to miss the traffic of other parents with school-aged children rushing to drop them off and get to work. She thought about what the second lecture would be like, knowing that this was the first actual day of _learning_. She knew better than to assume that she would be able to reach the minds of all those in attendance, but she hoped that her experience would influence, at least, a few of them. She also wondered about a certain student. One that appeared a little older than the rest, witty, a charming aura about him. The only student that she could actually remember. The only face she knew she would recognize in the crowd.

She had spent a week trying to shake the memory of his smug grin out of her mind. She had seen him for an hour out of her day, but his image was burned into her thoughts. She scolded herself for it. She was ashamed that some guy, hell, some kid was able to worm his way into her head. It had to be the divorce. She was just noticing any relatively attractive male around her. That's all. She spent the rest of the 45 minute drive trying to focus on the lesson plan: the levels of law enforcement officials. You know, the basics.

After parking in the staff garage, she walked through the sparsely occupied halls, the few faculty and students out and about for early morning classes and meetings. She walked to her office next door to the lecture hall, noticing that the lecture room's door was slightly ajar. She rolled her eyes as she unlocked her door, the other professor forgot to lock it, meaning it had been open for at least a day. She shrugged off her bag and placed her large coffee on her desk. She loved the little coffee cart that was just out front of the criminal justice department. They knew how law enforcement rolled. Chloe pulled out her lesson plan and her small laptop, making sure she had all her notes and bullet points ready for the class. The lesson would not be overwhelming, it was a perfect start to the semester, and it allowed a basic understanding of how the police hierarchy worked. Of course, she would add her own little side-notes, but the school didn't need to know that.

After an hour and on her second coffee, she closed her computer and curriculum. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, breathing in the last hour before she would have to brave the pack of barely-legal, and one very legal, young minds. She thought about how excited Trixie was when she told her she would be teaching. The girl was so happy that her mommy wouldn't be able to get hurt anymore. She had plastered on a fake smile as the girl hugged her, trying to keep the tears from falling at the thought of never returning to the station again. With a sigh, she rubbed the inner corners of her eyes, trying to avoid messing up her makeup in the process. A thump and faint laughter brought her out of her thoughts and back into detective thinking. She waited for another thud before she knew the location: the open lecture hall.

She stood, her hand instinctively reaching towards her hip for the sidearm that was not there. She cursed herself under her breath as she tiptoed out of her office and towards the lecture hall door. She could hear movement, a male and female voice, as well as the slight shuffling of soft material. It wasn't until the smacking noises of two people sucking face emanated from the room that she knew what was going on. Opening the door, just slightly, she peered in, trying to see just who was in here. Who knows, maybe she would catch a faculty scandal? She laughed to herself, searching the large room until she found two figures pressed into the white board behind the podium.

The large frame pressed the much smaller, feminine body against the wall with his hips, her arms wrapping around his neck and gripping at his dark hair. The man had both hands cupping her jaw as he kissed her, rough and deep. Chloe watched as he moved his head lower, his lips attacking the girl's neck as her mouth fell open. She could hear her moans from the door. She knew she shouldn't be watching, that she should turn on the lights and tell the pair to leave, even inform the proper officials, but she couldn't turn away.

She watched as the man fell to his knees, large hands pushing up the skirt of the girl in front of him. Chloe couldn't see anything other than his dark hair between her thighs as he pulled one of the girl's legs onto his broad shoulder. She noticed the way the dark material stretched across his back, the way his tight slacks hugged every curve on his backside. The girl let out a loud moan, slamming her head into the white board behind her. Chloe could hear his low growl as one of his long arms snaked up her body, his large hand covering his partner's mouth to quiet her.

Chloe tried to keep her mouth from parting, but she failed. Her sharp inhale was involuntary as she watched his head move between tanned thighs, the muffled moans and squeals of the girl getting higher and higher. Chloe could see the younger girl fist one hand into his hair, the other reaching behind her, trying to cling to a flat wall, as she, very clearly, climaxed, hips rutting against the man's face. She watched him kiss the girl's inner thighs, his stubble-covered jaw working as he kissed his way back up her body. He took his hand off of the girl's mouth, pressing on the top of her head to push her to her knees, the other hand starting to work at his belt.

Chloe watched the tall, lean body stand straight, hand opening his trousers. She could see the side of his face clearly: mused hair, dark eyes, glistening lips and chin. She watched his lips part, his tongue poking out to lick at the remnants there. She had no idea how long she had been watching, but she suddenly slipped into the door, causing loud thud to echo in the almost empty room. Chloe stood there, frozen, as the two figures quickly turned their heads in her direction. The girl was clearly startled and stood up immediately, situating her clothes back to a descent position. The man only grinned at Chloe, staring at her as he buckled his belt and buttoned up the top buttons to his shirt. Without saying anything to him, the girl grabbed her purse and power-walked towards the door. She looked at Chloe, her eyes pleading her to just let her leave. The professor nodded, moving to the side to let the frightened girl go, turning her attention back to the man left in the room.

"Enjoy the show, Professor?" he asked, no hint of shame or embarrassment in his voice at all. She walked into the room, leaving the door slightly open, just as it had been before she stepped inside.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked him, giving him her best authoritative tone. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching the way he placed his hands on his hips, leaning his weight on one foot.

"I think it's quite obvious what I was trying to do, before you so rudely interrupted," he replied, pointing a hand directly at her. She could tell he was being serious. He didn't seem to care that one of his professors, a faculty member, caught him in a precarious situation in a lecture room.

"I teach in here," Chloe stated, pointing a finger out in the direction of the seats. "You take this class, you know it's almost time to start." She walked over to the podium, placing a hand on the plastic, taking her spot at the head of the room. She raised her groomed eyebrows at him, waiting for whatever poor excuse he could give her. She looked back down at her hand when she felt something against her fingers. She saw a pair of black-rimmed glasses sitting there and she picked them up without thinking about it.

She didn't even hear him walk towards her before he was grabbing the glasses out of her fingers. He slid them onto his face, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the prescription lenses. "Ah, much better," he said, taking a single step back and eyeing her up and down. "Now that I can actually see you today, you look familiar."

Chloe couldn't help her head tilting to the side and giving him her best _are you kidding me_ faces. How could he be so nonchalant after what she just walked in on? "Excuse me?" she asked, her arms returning to their normal spot across her chest. She watched as his expressions worked between wonder and confusion before finally resting at recognition.

"Oh, I know," he said, his voice dropping an octave, making his accent sound thicker. "You're from that movie." He tucked his hands into his pockets, smug grin on his face. His black dress shirt hugged his body perfectly, fitting snuggly down his torso before being tucked into his slacks.

Chloe's face didn't change, and she had to keep from letting one of her eyes twitch at the sight of his haughty expression. Finally, she let her irritation slip as she sighed and closed her eyes, one hand reaching behind her neck to scratch the back of her head. "Yep, mmhm. That's me," she affirmed, nodding her head a few times. Her other hand fell to her hip, resting there and keeping her upper body from folding over in embarrassment. _Great. Just great. _"I was really hoping no one in here would have seen it."

"I wouldn't worry," he said, taking a step closer, bending his head down to her level. "I doubt the other morons have seen such wonderful works," he added, his eyes gazing at her chest for a fraction of a second before coming back up to her eyes. "I do have to say, you've held up extremely well since your _Hot Tub_ days."

She couldn't believe it. Believe _him_. Who did he think he was? She just watched him eat some girl out and here he was making comments like that. He was unbelievable. As unbelievable as he was, she noticed the slight tug in her lower stomach as the way his eyes roamed her body and her face. His handsome features softened, lips parting ever-so-slightly as he watched her mouth fall open in shock. Before she could respond, a few students walked into the room, hesitating as they noticed the two at the podium before finding their seats.

Lucifer gave her one last look, one last knowing look before he walked backwards towards the stadium-style seats. He sat down in the first row, right in the middle, a direct view of Chloe behind the podium. He slouched in the chair, one arm on the small desk, the other resting along his thigh. He sat there, completely comfortable, hardly noticing as most of the girls in the class starting taking seats around him. Chloe looked down nervously and noticed she didn't have her computer or her lecture notes, she hurried out of the room, slipping past some more students and entered her office. She grabbed her things, taking a deep breath before returning to the lecture hall. She could feel his stare as she walked back to the podium; the only one noticing her return.

She looked at her watch, 8:55, who knows how long she had been watching, and then talking, to him. She yelled at herself in her head, she was mad that she let him get to her. She had to have let him, there was no way he was able to get past her walls, her defenses. Not since Dan, no one had gotten past her walls and made her feel anything other than exactly what she wanted to feel. Yet, here she was, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she stood in the front of the room, his eyes boring holes into her.

She flipped through her pages, just trying to pass the few minutes by without having to look up and out into the crowd. Police hierarchy. She knew it like the back of her hand. Today would go well, it would be smooth. At nine am exactly, one boy ran into the room, closing the door behind him and giving her his best _sorry_ expression. She nodded and pointed towards the seats, adjusting her hair as she, finally, turned her attention back to the class.

"Okay, so, the levels of law enforcement, hierarchy, if you will."

* * *

Ten am. She made it. She watched as the young group in front of her grabbed their belongings and made their way towards the door. Not exactly in a hurry, but appearing as if they all had places to be. She took a slow, steadying breath, letting the air fill her lungs completely before blowing out forcefully. While the class hadn't seemed _at all_ interested in what she was talking about, no one fell asleep, so she considered that a win. It was a win because she was able to complete her entire lecture without much interruption from a certain pupil.

He only asked a few good, but annoying, question, but he just kept looking at her. Occasionally he would glance at one of the many young girls surrounding him, giving them a knowing smile before turning his eyes back to her. Although the attention made her uncomfortable, it wasn't unwelcomed. She hated the part of her that actually liked his attention, liked that he looked at her instead of the young, perky girls around him. _It's just because of the recent divorce. It means nothing. _

She grabbed her things from the podium, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear before stepping to the side only to run directly into a tall, hard body. She stayed for a second, face pressed against his chest before she pulled back violently. He stood with his arms out, smiling as she moved away from him as quickly as she could.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She asked, straightening her blazer and putting on her most professional, _professor_, face.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier," he said, one hand raising up to scratch along his ear. She noticed how the glasses didn't take anything away from his features. She could still see his eyes clearly, as well as the other features. If anything, they seemed to add to the annoying charm. "I didn't think anyone would be here."

"It was an hour before class," Chloe started, shifting her computer and notepad from on hand to the other. "Why would you even come here this early?"

"Well, I live off campus," he began, one hand moving as he spoke. _Yep, European_. "She lives on campus, but has roommates. We couldn't go to her place last night, so, we found an open door."

"You were here all night?" she asked, shock apparent in her tone. She started at the man in front of her, so calm, so causal, as if he hadn't just admitted to being in the classroom all night with a girl.

"Well, give or take a few hours, and people," he said, whispering the last few words. He gave her a wink, bending down slightly to look directly into her eyes. He watched her shake her head in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing, preparing to speak.

"Wow. You really are something," she stated sarcastically, shifting her weight in her boots.

"They all said the same thing," he returned, shoving his hands into his pockets. She hated that she found his smile to be cute. Charming, irritating, and infuriating, but cute.

Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him. This guy really was a piece of work. "Okay, well, as enthralling as this conversation is," she started, leaning against the podium for support. "I need to get going to prepare for a meeting."

He nodded, not being smiling again _(the bastard)_ and holding his hands up in surrender. "Yes, of course, I need to get off to bed, anyways. Regain some energy," he said, backing away from her slowly. She motioned for him to go ahead since she needed to lock the door behind her. To make sure none of _that_ shenanigans happened again. "Care to tuck me in, Professor?"

Chloe choked at his words. He was looking at her, grin across his lips, his eyes dark and twinkling with intent. She couldn't believe he just asked that. Who did this guy think he was? "Are you serious?" she asked, trying not to raise her voice too much.

"I'm kidding," he replied, turning away from her slowly. "It's just, I am a bit tense from being interrupted this morning," he said, his bottom lip slightly sticking out in a pout. He started to walk towards the door, spinning around to face her again. "Maybe I'll watch a little movie. Release the pressure, you know?" he said, smirking as both hands motioned down towards the front of his pants. Before turning around to leave he tilted his head back a little, his eyes darkening as he bit his lip and turned away, walking out of sight past the door.

He left her standing, in shock, a couple of feet from the door. She felt her skin start to flush, starting at her neck and creeping up towards her cheeks. One of her students had just insinuated that they would _release the pressure_ to her movie, no doubt referring to her nude scene. Why did she let him get away with that? Was it the pure shock, or something else? Why was she blushing? She shouldn't be feeling like this. A comment like that at the precinct would have gotten a guy punched. Was this job making her soft already? She blamed it on the male attention that she was getting. It was new to notice and to welcome the attention. After the end of a marriage, it can be exciting to get attention, to flirt. That's all this was. She really needed to convince herself harder of that. She couldn't keep saying that every time she saw him. Luckily, it was only once a week, she thought to herself.

Chloe made her way back to her office, sitting in the uncomfortable chair, dropping her things on the desk without a care. She rubbed her face, gathering her thoughts before opening her laptop to the online portal for the course. She didn't have anything to grade, but she needed something to take her mind off of the events of this morning. Her mind kept going back to the way he moved, pressing that girl into the wall, slowly lowering to his knees in front of her. She could remember the way the material of his clothes stretched across his body, molding over the curves and edges. She could see the way his head of dark hair bobbed between the girl's thighs, the sounds that girl made gave her an idea of how he was doing down there. She wondered what she would have seen if she hadn't, stupidly, tripped and made a noise. Would she have let herself watch?

She shuddered at the thought. She wasn't a voyeur, but she did like what she saw. That bothered her, more than she thought it would. She was always so straight and by-the-book. Why was she letting herself think about a student like that? Oh yeah, because she didn't expect a student like that. To _look _like that. She sighed in frustration, slamming her laptop shut and standing up. She needed to get another coffee before attempting to prepare for a meeting with the board of directors. She knew they would want to check up on the charity case she was of a professor. Walking through the halls, she could still hear his groans and growls as if her were making them by her ear. Her body responded, goose bumps covering her flesh and her legs tightening on their own. She seriously needed to get a grip, or this would be a long semester.

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**A/N: **So, what did you think? Why does he have to be so frustratingly charming? haha. I hope you liked it and I hope you're getting excited for everything that could (and will, believe me) happen! Let me know what you thought. I love reading reviews, good or bad. Suggestions are great, too! Just FYI, I don't have a set schedule for when I will post, so I apologize for that. Anyways, I'm off. Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Okay, another chapter for you guys. A little longer than the others, but some serious story progression happens here. I hope you like this one. Things get a bit dark towards the end, but for good reason! Please, leave a review, I LOVE them, and they really help me write the good stuff for you guys ;) Also, for reference, the **bolded** text is to signify text messages. Happy reading!

* * *

He was serious. The pressure that had been building in his pants since his maddeningly striking professor put a stop to his imminent blowjob, leading into other adult themed activities. That girl had been ready to worship him to no end after the astonishing orgasm his mouth gave her. So, here he was, in his apartment, searching the wonderful internet for the clip of _Hot Tub High School_ that involved said professor in a wonderful nude scene.

He sat on his couch, one hand scrolling on his phone, the other undoing his belt and trousers, freeing his already hardening cock of its confines. He found it, of course. Some beautiful soul had created a looping clip of that scene, including a slow-mo version, too. _Thank you._ Was this weird? Not to him. This was only natural. Why not jerk off to a classic movie's nude scene staring your current professor? To Lucifer Morningstar, this was just another Tuesday mid-morning.

There she was, laughing and splashing about in that hot tub, dark purple, barely-there bikini, covering only the naughty bits. Tanned skin glistening from the water, hair slicked back and sticking to her shoulders. She was an absolute vision. Even today, she still has the same smile, same body (from what he can tell from the way her clothes fit), and same hair. Her features are harder, more worn, as if she's lived a life full of good and bad experiences. She wasn't the same carefree, nineteen year old from the movie, she was now a hardened woman, just trying to stay afloat.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, watching the way Chloe would lick her lips before she spoke, her eyes sparkling with delight with whatever one of her co-starts had said. Just from this scene, he could tell the difference between her fake, acting smile and her real, genuine smile that he would catch a glimpse of during her lectures, when she was talking about something she was passionate about. From the two hours he'd watched her, he had grown to love the way her nose crinkled a little when something made her laugh, the way her eyes would shine with joy if a student asked a good question. However, it wasn't her smile that was going to get him off. It was the way that bikini clung to her body once wet. The way he could make out her nipples straining against the material, creating just a slight shadow on her covered breasts.

He bit his lip, groaning as she stood up, exposing her flat stomach and the too-low bikini bottoms lifted high on her curved hips. He could feel his breath quickening as his strokes became faster, harder as the blood pulsed through his member. He watched the way her long, lean legs stepped up the small ladder, making her way out of the hot tub. He imagined his own hands running along those legs from foot to hip, grabbing at her skin and making his way up to her well-formed ass. The way those bikini bottoms cut high up on her cheeks just begged for them to be grabbed, squeezed, and slapped. Another quiet moan escaped his lips as she looked at someone off-screen, but it looked as if she were looking at him, beckoning him with those gorgeous blue-grey eyes.

He could feel his orgasm beginning to form deep inside his loins, the familiar coiling sensation that hinted he either had to slow it down or speed it up, depending on his mood. He was in no mood to torture himself any longer. He wanted release, and he wanted it while looking at her. He watched the on-screen Chloe slip out of her bikini top, revealing her perfectly perky breasts, soft and round, the perfect handful for his large hands. His grip on his phone tightened alongside his thighs, the muscles tensing as his strokes became more erratic, frantic, even. He watched as beads of water dripped down between her breasts, her golden skin glowing in the sun. Her hands grabbed her own breasts, the camera zoomed out to show her lips parting, her head falling back slightly as she moaned loudly.

He groaned as his cock twitched in his hand, almost sending him over the edge. He desperately wanted to hear that sound again, to hear her moan and groan as she writhed beneath him. As he watched off-screen actor approach her, capturing her lips and wrapping his arms around her waist, he imagined himself doing that to her. He imagined how he would grab her, hard, press her firmly into him so that she could feel what she did to him. He thought about the way her breasts would feel pressed into him, the way his cock would feel pressed against her stomach.

He was so close now, his hips beginning to buck under his movements, a slight sheen of sweat spreading across his body, his breath coming in pants and groans. He was waiting for one specific part he knew well, he wanted to cum to that, he wanted to cum to her throwing her head back, biting her lips, and crying out as she (pretended to) cum in the movie. He watched as her chest began to heave, the beginning of her inevitable fall, leading to his promised explosion. The whimpers and pants that left her mouth was music to his ears. Those sounds had never made him harder, had never affected him as much as they were now.

There is was, the moment he was waiting her: he watched her mouth fall open, her head thrown back and her eyes slam shut as she cried out, causing him to groan as his release covered his hand and trousers. He rode out his orgasm to watching her catch her breath, a small smile on her lips, her tits bouncing as she giggled. Once _finally_ finished and sated, he took a deep breath, tossing his phone to the side and wiping his hand on his trousers. Feeling the much needed relief, tiredness came over him like a wave, his all-nighter of drinking, drugs, and sex finally catching up to him. He discarded his clothes in the laundry bin before jumping into a warm shower, letting the water cleans his skin and let him wonder what it would be like if he were in a hot tub with Professor Decker.

After the shower, he slipped into some briefs before collapsing into his bed, the cool sheets soothing his heated skin. Before he drifted off into sleep, he made a mental note to call a girl that looked similar to his Professor, hoping to make relieve his fantasy a little more with her, but first, he needed some sleep. Everything in his system had worn off and he was depressingly sober, sleep was his only escape from his life when sober.

* * *

_She let him pin her against the wall, the slick white surface cooling, even through her clothes. Tall, hard body pressed into her, strong hands wrapped around her jaw, framing her face, as his lips attacked hers. She could feel the scratch of his stubble across her cheek as his lips traveled down her neck. Those soft, pouty lips leaving a trail of fire on her skin as he fell to his knees, hands grabbing her ass and lifting her skirt higher. She felt her legs tremble as he bit her inner thigh, his dark eyes looking up at her through even darker lashes. She nearly came from the look he gave her before plunging his tongue into her wet folds. He seemed to drink from her, his head bobbing as he pressed his tongue in and out, fucking her with his mouth. _

_ She grabbed a fitful of his dark hair, pressing his face against where she needed him, the other hand tried to grab onto the flat surface behind her, just to steady herself a little bit. His strong hands gripped her hips, pulling her harder against his face. His teeth would graze her sensitive flesh in the best way, just barely catching on soft skin, giving a slight shock to her system. She loved the growls he made, the groans he let her hear at her taste against his tongue. She watched his handsome face move and flex to please her completely, her orgasm building by the second. _

_ "Professor, you taste so good," he praised, his accented voice whispered against the skin of her inner thigh and her drenched center. She moaned at his words, the way they seemed to just roll off his tongue. He could say anything and it would sound like a dream, it would sound like it was just for her. "Please, tell me, how close are you to cumming on my tongue?" _

_ "Fuck, so close," she whispered back, her head slamming into the whiteboard behind her. She realized where she was: her lecture hall. Her walls began to flutter as his lips and tongue continued to tease her entrance and her clit, his hot tongue dipping deep inside her every few strokes. She gasped, earning her a growl from the man below her, his hands wrapping behind her and grabbing her ass hard. She felt her walls begin to flutter as her eyes shot open, revealing her dark environment. _She could feel the pulses and contractions of her orgasm as one hand gripped her pillow, the other was stroking through her dripping folds.

She was in bed. Her bed. In her room. She caught her breath, her heart rate only increasing when she realized it was just a dream. She should be elated that it was just a dream, but that lead to a whole new set of problems. She just had a wet dream, a _very wet dream_, about a student. About that one student that found his way into her thoughts more than she wanted to admit. The one student she caught eating out some young girl, just like he had been doing to her in her dream. Lucifer Morningstar was invading her thoughts, and her dreams, apparently. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. _Chloe rubbed her clean hand over her face, trying to wipe away the shame, feeling her smile on her lips.

The clock on her phone read 0520. She could go back to sleep, she should. She had nowhere to be on a Friday morning, thankfully, but she was afraid to go back to sleep. Afraid that she would dream of him again. She was appalled with herself. This wasn't like her. She didn't break the rules. She didn't even dream of breaking the rules. She had only seen him for, maybe, two hours, excluding watching him eat a girl out. Accepting that she was awake, she shot out of bed and walked towards her bathroom. Trixie would be up in a few hours for school, anyways, so she might as well get ready and make a good breakfast for her. Anything to keep her mind off of _him. _

While in the shower, she thought about how the divorce was affecting her. How everything was affecting her: the career change, the attack. While she had seen the counselor in order to be considered fit for duty, she hadn't been to therapy. She had considered it for a day, but decided against it. She was strong. She would get through it, plus, the new job gave her more downtime, more time to focus on her relationship with her daughter. However, Trixie wouldn't be with her this weekend. She would be with Dan until Monday night. That meant she was free to do anything all weekend. Which meant she was free to think of him all weekend. A shudder ran through her body, even under the almost-scalding water.

She should go out. She hadn't been out in _ages_. She hadn't seen friends from work in a long time, either. She knew they were busy doing important things, and she was busy trying to figure out how to be a normal member of society. Once dried, a large t-shirt on a towel wrapped around her head, she texted Ella, the bright and spunky forensics tech, knowing the woman would be awake and headed for the station soon.

**Chloe: Plans tonight? I was thinking a girls night, just us. **A few seconds later her phone buzzed. _Of course, she would reply right away at 6 am. _

**Ella: Um, Yeah! I could definitely use a few drinks! Plus, we need to catch up!**

**Chloe: Yes, we do! I need some drinks too. **She replied, not mentioning the need for said drinks for obvious reasons. She could always count on Ella to be there. To be the person that would do anything for you. She also wouldn't pressure her for details, so that was a plus.

**Ella: There's this new place I've been wanting to go to. Sort of like this real, traditional bar. Nothing fancy, just a bar, alcohol, and pool tables. You in? **

**Chloe: Yes! It'll be nice to not go to a club with raging music and sweaty dancers! **She definitely didn't need any of that around while she decided to drown out her thoughts of Lucifer, her student, with alcohol and peanuts.

**Ella: I'll text you when I'm off. We'll meet up then! **

**Chloe: Sounds great. Have a good day. See you later! **

**Ella: **** *heart eyes* **

Chloe put her phone down, pulling on a pair of underwear and shorts before toweling off her hair one final time. She dropped the towel on the floor and went downstairs to start preparing the feast of a breakfast she had time to not ruin. She was thinking eggs, bacon, because _duh,_ and waffles. Her mouth watered just at the thought. Coffee, first, though. She needed the bitter, warm embrace of coffee to soothe her turmoil in her soul. God, how she loved that dream, but she also hated herself for the main star. That beautiful man that just kept butting his way into her head. She seriously needed to get laid, but someone. Definitely not him. She scolded herself. Someone older, and _not_ her student, for starters.

* * *

She had put on her makeup like she always did, this time she lined her eyes and smudged out the black, applied a darker brown to her lids and gave herself a smoky look. The black and brown brought out the lightness of her eyes, and she thought it gave her a more sensual look. Less hard, more approachable. She left her hair down, letting the waves fall naturally past her shoulders. She went with black jeans and a dark blue shirt, and her feet were covered in boots, however, they had a higher heel. She wasn't one to wear traditional pumps. The neckline of her shirt plunged lower than usual for her, but it made the swell of her breasts look nice in dim light. Happy with her appearance, she grabbed her keys and set out to the address Ella had texted her an hour earlier.

Once she parked, she noticed that the outside of the bar was very plain. There were no neon signs, aside from the typical BEER sign hanging in the window. She appreciated the simplicity. It wasn't calling out for customers, the people that frequented this place were what kept it alive. She wouldn't have to worry about being the awkward one standing at the bar, watching the others dance. No, here, she would fit in and be one of the many just sitting, chatting, and drinking.

Inside, the dim lights and perfectly loud music gave a calm atmosphere. This was her kind of place. One that had music, pool tables, an assortment of normal drinks, none of that pink, frilly shit, but something you could order with one or two words.

She found Ella quickly, the smaller woman waving her arms frantically from a bar stool. She waved back, acknowledging her gesture as she walked farther into the bar. She sat in the stool next to her friend, giving her a hug before looking for the bartender.

"Long Island, please," she said, the bartender giving her a short nod before walking off to grab the concoction of liquor for her drink.

"Someone's trying to forget something," Ella chimed in, sipping her drink through the tiny straw it came with. She had that _trying to be innocent_ face on before she started laughing. Clearly she was already on her second drink.

"Oh, yeah," she confirmed, thanking the bartender as he slid her drink up to her. Chloe took a long sip, savoring the way the drink tasted nothing of alcohol, allowing her to consume more than intended, on purpose. She continued to sip her drink as Ella caught her up on the latest scandals of the precinct, ordering a second drink as soon as her first was empty.

They talked for a few more minutes, a third drink on its way as Chloe discussed the dull life of a college professor. She hadn't mentioned a certain someone that had made her Thursday (and, apparently, her dreams) a little more exciting. She was feeling the buzz, but it wasn't the alcohol that felt hot behind her. Nothing was touching her, but she could feel a heat radiating onto her skin, a presence she could feel anywhere.

"Well, hello, Professor," he greeted, his voice low and promising behind her. She could see Ella's mouth dropping open looking up at him from in front of her. She was shameless in her reaction to him. She wished she could have a bit of that freedom.

Chloe turned in her stool, coming to face him, her eyes directly in front of his chest. She quickly lifted her gaze towards his face, seeing a smug expression on his handsome features. "Hello, Lucifer," she replied, her eyes slightly wider than they had been. She sees the smile on his face grow wider once she turns around. He looks over her head towards her friend, who, by the looks of it, must have a surprised expression.

"Don't worry, I'm not actually the devil," he assured, one hand raising in self-defense. "Only if you ask me to be." Ella laughed along with him, giving Chloe a knowing look. Chloe knew that look. The _Oh my God_ look.

"I'm Ella," the lab tech said, reaching her hand out to the side of Chloe. Lucifer took her hand, giving it a light shake before taking a drink from his glass of amber liquid.

"Lovely to meet you," he said, emphasizing the first word too much, if he hadn't of been him. He made it sound erotic. _Of course. He could make a computer manual sound erotic._

Chloe tried to hide the flush on her cheeks as her friend kicked her leg, out of sight of their new male company. She looked at her from the side. She watched her mouth the question _Student_ before looking at him from head to toe. If Lucifer noticed, he didn't seem to care.

"So, Professor," he started, looking at her very casually, as if she were just another woman, and not his teacher. "Exciting lecture yesterday. Will next week's class be even better?" He licked his bottom lip before biting it, luckily Ella was too busy trying to get an ice cube from her cup to notice.

"I'm hoping not," she replied, although she knew it was half a lie. Part of her didn't want to see him with another girl, but part of her wanted to see him do something, to have something else to fuel her dreams.

He could see the hint of interest in her eyes, but he wouldn't torture her here, not like that. He chuckled to himself, nodding in agreement. "Okay, fair enough," he said, taking one last look at Chloe's friend behind her. "Well, you ladies have a wonderful rest of the evening." He looked at Chloe, longer than anyone would usually look at someone when trying to leave. She didn't say anything as he left his glass on the bar, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and placing one in his mouth. Chloe watched as he swerved his way through the crowd effortlessly, exiting through the doors out into the streets of L.A.

Chloe didn't want to turn around. She didn't want to see the look on Ella's face that she knew would be there. She knew that spunky lab tech would ask a million questions, and she just didn't want to fumble over any answers. She quickly put on her most casual face, digging out from the depths of her repertoire of faces she learned to use as a cop. She turned and was met with the face she was anticipating: shock and awe.

"What?" Chloe asked, sipping her drink, acting completely unaffected by Ella's expression. Her friend's mouth opened even wider, he eyes expressing that _Oh my God_ look perfectly.

"Chloe," Ella marveled, placing both hands on the bar. "Is he really a student?"

"Yes, Ella, what's the big deal?" Chloe was having a hard time trying to hide behind her casual façade. She knew why her friend was acting like that. While she agreed, she couldn't give that away. She wouldn't allow herself the opportunity to entertain him in her thoughts with Ella.

"He's gorgeous!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide in excitement. "And that accent, the way he called you _Professor, _God," she finished, swooning and pretending to fan herself. She started laughing, eliciting a small chuckle from the all-too-serious woman.

"Okay, okay," Chloe said, holding her hands up with a smile on her face. "I'm going to the bathroom. Compose yourself before I get back," she chided, taping Ella on the shoulder as she made her way towards the back of the bar. She couldn't find any signs leading her in the right direction, so the first door she found she decided to see if that was her target destination. The cool breeze flowed over her warm skin, the alcohol making her step out before she realized she was no longer inside. The door closed behind her loudly, making her jump. She laughed at herself before trying to open it again, with no avail.

She sighed, hitting the door with an open hand before turning to get her bearings straight. She saw the street to her left, marking the direction back towards the front of the bar. She didn't have her bag, didn't have a phone, and didn't have her ID. Luckily, she looked plenty older than 21. She started walking towards the street but stopped when she noticed the plump figure leaning with his head against the building wall. She could hear him grunting and hiccupping before shaking the front of his pants. She watched him zip his pants and back away from the wall he had been pissing on.

Her blood ran cold. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered her. She's a trained cop, she knows how to protect herself, but her recent attack made her doubt her skills, and it also immediately made her anxiety go through the roof, in this case, the sky. She stood there, motionless, hoping that he was too drunk to even notice her presence. He hadn't even noticed the door slamming shut, so there was hope.

The inebriated man stumbled a few times before looking in her direction. He stilled, then a wicked sneer bubbled up from his throat. "Hey, there, honey," he started, barely enunciating the words properly. "Trying to catch a peak?" The man started stumbling towards Chloe, the smell of alcohol invaded her nostrils, even at a distance.

"No, I'm just trying to get back in," she replied, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. Her breaths were coming fast and hard, her pulse skyrocketing as her body began to tremble. She tried to walk past him, pushing herself against the rough brick of the building to keep as far a distance from him as possible.

He quickly stepped in front of her, belching in her face as he brought one of his stubby hands to the top of her arm. "What's the rush? Don't you want to have a little fun?" Chloe's entire body tensed under his touch, she tried to pull her arm away, but he squeezed even harder.

"Let me go," she ordered, turning her gaze towards the building, unable to meet his gaze. His interference was beginning to feel familiar: stubby hands, foul breath, and unwanted words. She was shaking by that point and she could tell he was enjoying her struggle.

"Come on, baby," he droned, pressing himself against her. "You don't go out looking like that unless you're hoping to get some." Her mind was screaming, telling herself to fight, but she couldn't. Her body was shutting down, her head soon following. She could feel the cold, sinking feeling, as if she were in an ice bath, wash over her. A dread that she had hoped she would never feel again, especially not so soon. The effects of her previous trauma were causing her faculties to fail. She couldn't fight back, even if she wanted to, it's not like it would matter anyway. He was the kind of man that just took what he wanted from a woman, because that's what they were to him. Something to be used.

Her hearing went out with a loud ring, muffling any noise. She couldn't make out what else he was saying, she could hear herself beginning to scream, but he covered her mouth. She was panicking, and instead of fighting back, she cowered. She tried to press herself into the cold stone next to her, tried to just melt away from him. She felt a rough hand grab at her breast, pulling her shirt in the process. Just as quickly as she had felt him touch her, he was gone, ripped off of her by an unseen force.

Chloe collapsed down to the ground, her knees up to her chin, pressing into her chest, her arms wrapping around them, holding herself together as if she would fall apart if she didn't. She could see the blurry forms of the man that had grabbed her and another, taller man. The taller figure was knelt down over the drunk one, holding him down with one arm, and the other throwing blows at his face. Through the ringing, she could hear the smacks of knuckles against flesh, followed by a squishing sound she could only imagine to be blood. She kept her eyes open, afraid to close her eyes and relive the encounter she had those months ago. The encounter everyone knew only half of.

The smacking sounds stopped and her vision wad darkened by the taller figure. She could hear a voice calling out to her, a familiar voice, but she couldn't make out the words. He bent down in front of her, his face coming into her line of sight. She focused for a second, recognizing the features almost instantly. She tried to control her breathing, but a soft sob fell past her lips, her arms hugged her legs even tighter.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently, trying to hide the concern in his tone. She could see the worry in his dark eyes as they scanned her appearance. Carefully, he reached his hands out to cup her face, barely touching but providing enough comfort to help ground her. "Professor, are you okay?"

Chloe slammed her hands on top of his, her fingers squeezing at his around her cheeks. She could feel open flesh and warm fluid over his knuckles, but his touch was reassuring. She looked into his eyes, her own filled with a fear that was slowly fading. She could feel her heart begin to slow down, the thudding in her chest becoming softer. She nodded slightly, her breaths coming in shaky and light.

Lucifer turned his head at the soft sound of heels clicking down the alley behind him. Chloe kept her gaze on him, letting his presence continue to calm her body and mind. She felt protected, safe, with him here, and not just because he incapacitated the attacker. He just made her feel safe, something she hadn't felt around another man since her incident months ago. "Chloe? Oh my God! Are you okay?" Ella all but screamed as she continued to run down the alley towards them. Once she was close, Lucifer backed off, rubbing the side of Chloe's face with his thumbs lightly before stepping away, giving room to the smaller woman.

Chloe felt her friend wrap her arms around her before she pulled back, her hands resting on the tops of her shoulders. Ella turned to take in the scene. She could see Lucifer standing back against the other side of the alley, a shorter, overweight man, barely moving, on the ground. His face was bloody and she could see the dark color of blood smeared across Lucifer's right knuckle. She turned back to Chloe, running her hand over her hair multiple times in a soothing manner. "I'm going to call Dan, he'll get this handled quickly."

Chloe was going to protest, but she knew Ella was right. She didn't want to have to deal with a lengthy process. She just wanted this taken care of quickly and efficiently, with as little blow-up as possible. She didn't need another attack to be made public. She already looked, and felt, like a defenseless woman. Ella was on the phone for a few minutes, pacing in front of Chloe as she spoke. Chloe watched her look between her, Lucifer, and the man on the ground as she spoke, no doubt giving Dan her account of what she saw after the fact.

As they waited, Lucifer would occasional smoke a cigarette, flicking the burning buds at the guy on the ground. There was a moment where the guy started to sit up, but Lucifer quickly pinned him down, hitting him again until he stayed down. Ella flinched at the blow, pulling Chloe a little closer to her. _Why was she scared?_ Chloe couldn't figure it out. What she wondered was about the flash in his eyes whenever he looked over at the other man. She saw danger in them, she saw anger and hate. She wanted to know what was going on in his head, but she didn't have the ability to form a word. She sat there, huddled against Ella, Lucifer leaning against the building opposite of them, and waited the minutes (that felt like hours) until Dan and a few LAPD officers showed up.

Chloe saw Lucifer look in the direction of the squad cars, his eyes coming right back to hers as they approached. She could hear a few footsteps, one set coming in quicker, running towards them. She looked up to see Dan striding up to the group, taking in the sight of the guy on the ground, Lucifer standing next to him, Ella holding Chloe as they sat on the ground on the opposite side. Chloe continued to look at Lucifer, time slowing down as he was suddenly blocked from her view by Dan bending down in front of her. And just like that, the ripcord tying her to her sense of safety was severed as soon as she couldn't see him anymore.

* * *

**A/N: **I know, I know. Leaving you guys on a little cliffhanger. Haha. I just felt like this chapter would have been extremely long if I had kept going. But I promise, I will come back right where I left off. Who else is curious as to what Dan will say about a certain student of Chloe's being there to protect her? Please, let me know what you thought about the whole thing. At least it was light and fluffy in the beginning ;) I hope you enjoyed! Until next time...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Okay, sorry for the wait! This isn't too long, but I feel that I stopped it at a good spot. Enjoy a little insight into Lucifer's thoughts that night. TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of violence, just FYI

* * *

He hadn't considered that he would be spending his Friday night standing against the front of a bar, pulled away from everyone else by some uniformed officer. Was this outside of the realm of possibility for him? No. However, he hadn't considered the possibility as he had stepped outside and lit a cigarette. He had heard the shuffle, assuming a couple had stumbled out through the side door and were starting to enjoy their night against the building, but it was the panicked screams that drew him to the alley. When he saw a stout man pressing a woman against the building, clearly against her will, rage had immediately flooded his senses. He wholeheartedly _despised _men that laid hands on women. Vile creatures completely undeserving of the life they regrettably lived.

It wasn't until he was only a few feet away that he recognized the woman. He had paused for just a second, his breath catching in his throat at the pure terror on her face. She was someone he had thought could easily defend herself, given her past occupation, but she was just cowering, pleading for it to stop. Yanking that sack of shit off her, he threw him to the ground, the feel of that man's face crunch under his hand, over and over again, felt amazing. He had missed this, the violence and the adrenaline rush hitting someone else gave him. He felt his middle finger crack, but that only fueled his onslaught. He felt the slick and hot blood under his knuckled, his skin splitting over previous scars. _Such a rush_.

Once the slob was motionless, he stopped. He pressed his clean hand into the man's chest, pushing himself back up to a standing position. Coming back down from the high, he looked for her and found her in the same spot she was. He approached her slowly, calling out to her without receiving any acknowledgment. He bent down and noticed how distraught she was. She was shivering, hugging her knees to her chest as if her life depended on it. Her eyes were open but unfocused, as if looking off into space. He gave into the urge to cup her face in his hands, trying to provide some comfort to her, to let her know she was safe. Something was off. While one expects someone to be shaken after being accosted, she seemed undeniably traumatized.

He was taken aback when she slammed her hands down over his, pressing his palms into her cheeks with force. She was muttering to herself, but he couldn't make out anything. He looked into her eyes and he could see she was looking at him, not past him, but right at him. She nodded when he asked if she was okay, but he wanted to say more. Do more. His anxiety was subsided by her friend running towards them. Reluctantly, he released her, stepping aside to allow the much more equipped woman to try and comfort her.

Those were the events that led to his current state of standing, waiting to be talked to by one of the detectives on scene. He remembered the other woman, Ella, he believed, saying something about a "Dan" handling the situation. Perhaps he is who he was waiting to talk to. He was brought out of his thoughts by the EMS gurney rolling past him with that sad, shit-stain of a human being strapped to it. He had overheard the EMT and Paramedics say that he most definitely had an orbital fracture. That had made him smile. _Good. Hope his face is fucked up for the rest of his wretched life. _They loaded him into the ambulance and drove off, silently, into the night.

Just as he was about to light his fifth cigarette of the hour he saw a man approach him, badge and gun on hip. He was shorter than Lucifer, but stockier, giving off every bit of SoCal detective as he could between his hair and his tight v-neck.

"Lucifer Morningstar, twenty-seven, in the U.S. on a student visa," he stated, reading off of the small notepad in his hands. He stood as if waiting for a response, but Lucifer only slid the cigarette back into the carton and into his pocket. "I'm detective Espinoza with LAPD. Care to tell me what happened here?" he asked once he realized he wasn't going to get anything from the man before him.

Lucifer nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I was standing, pretty much, right here, having a smoke, when I heard a bit of a scuffle coming from the alley. I peaked down, saw a man grabbing at a woman, and I did the sensible thing and pulled him off her," he answered nonchalantly, as if he had been reading off a restaurant menu.

Dan stood there, nodding his head, before grimacing. "Looks like you did a lot more than just pull him off her," he suggested, hands going to his hips. He watched the younger man shrug, a small smirk turning the corners of his mouth. "He's being sent to the hospital."

"Hey, I was just trying to be a Good Samaritan," Lucifer said, holding his hands up in front of him in defense. He watched the detective take a good look at his hand before returning to his notebook.

"Well, not such a _Good _Samaritan, now are you?" he asks, a knowing tone laced in his words. Lucifer gave him a questioning look as if he had no idea what he was talking about. "Any police records are visible with your student-visa," he offered, exaggerating the flip of a page.

Lucifer's face fell expressionless as he watched the detective pretend to read a list in the notepad. "Your point?" he asked with a flourish of his bloodied hand.

"Seems this isn't the first time you've sent someone to the hospital at a bar," Dan expressed, his eyebrows raising in Lucifer's direction.

"I paid my fine for those," Lucifer stated, a forced smile on his face. His eyes shown with aggravation at the mention. He had paid more than fines for those instances. "I don't see how that matters here."

The detective closed the notebook, sticking into the back pocket of his jeans before looking back at Lucifer. "This time, it doesn't," he said, holding out his hand towards the other man. Lucifer looked at him questioningly, his brows furrowing as he pushed himself away from the wall and accepted the handshake, assessing the strength of it. _Firm._

"This time?" he asked, pulling his hand back, shoving both into his trouser pockets. He tilted his head up slightly, keeping the detective in his line of sight while observing the street before him.

"Yeah, I'm not going to charge you with anything," Dan replies, crossing his arms over his stomach. "The woman that was attacked is my ex-wife, mother of my child, former cop. I appreciate what you did." He finished, chewing on his lip. Lucifer could see that he was genuine in his appreciation. The gravity of the situation couldn't keep the thought out of his head, though. _Ex-wife? _Dan clapped him on his shoulder as he walked back into the alley, a sign that he was free to go. He couldn't walk away, not yet, at least. He stayed put, pulling out the cigarette burning a hole in his slacks to be lit. He inhaled the smoke deeply, letting the nicotine fill his lungs, exhaling the stress away.

Dan approached Chloe and Ella, uniformed officers finishing with their statements. Chloe looked much better. She was no longer cowered on the ground. She was standing tall, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes wide with unease. "Hey, we're all set here," he said, reaching his hand out to rub the top of Chloe's arm. She smiled lightly, trying not to flinch away from his touch. He was just being supportive, but she couldn't help the feeling of wanting to be away from him. From everyone.

"Wait, where's Trixie?" she asked, realizing that he was there and not with their daughter. She held up her hand, waiting for his response. A new wave of panic swept over her.

"I called my mom as soon as Ella called me, she's fine," Dan assured her, taking a step back. He watched her for a second, her eyes closing in relief. "Look, I'm going to keep Trixie this weekend. You go home, relax," he started, but she held up her hand again, interrupting him.

"No, I want to see her," Chloe told him, pinching the bridge of her nose. She just wanted to go home, take a scalding shower and get the stench of that man off of her. She didn't want to keep being reminded of him.

"Chloe, after what happened a few months ago, and tonight, you should just focus on you," Dan tried to reason, only good intentions in his heart. She knew that. She knew he was just looking out for her, but she didn't care. She wanted to spend the weekend cuddling her daughter and watching TV.

"No, I want her with me," she asserted, giving him a hard look. Defeated, Dan agreed, nodding before rubbing her upper arm, again, bidding the two women goodnight.

Once Dan was out of earshot, Ella turned to face her, giving her a small smile. "Can I drive you home? I'll have one of the uniforms drive your car to your house for you."

Chloe thought about it. She really just wanted to get home, but she also didn't feel ready to drive. Her hands were still shaking and every time she blinked events from a few months ago flashed in her vision. She nodded, licking her lips and grabbing her bag from her friend. Ella's smile grew at the agreement, thinking she would have to fight her on it.

They walked out of the alley, starting towards the street in search of Ella's car. She saw a plume of smoke to her right and she turned. His face faded back into view through the smoke, and he was looking right at her. A bloody hand pulled the cigarette from between his lips, letting it burn by his side. She wanted to say something, but her legs would not move. She opted for a small wave, her fingers lifting off of their grip on her arm. She tried to smile, but she knew it didn't come off right, but he accepted it anyway. He nodded his head, a sad smile pulling at his lips before he ducked his head, turned, and walked away. Chloe let out the breath she was holding and found Ella waiting for her by her car.

* * *

She let the too-hot water burn her skin, the honey color replaced by pink. She had scrubbed her skin raw over the last twenty minutes, her arms and chest taking the worst of it because that's what he had grabbed. As soon as Ella had dropped her off, she ran and got in the shower. Letting the water wash away the stink of the evening, she washed and washed, until she ran out of hot water.

She had tried to sleep, but, aside from a few instances of dozing and waking abruptly, sleep had not come to her. The events from months ago kept replaying in her head. Being in that alley had reminded her of what it was like in that warehouse, dark and isolated. The crunch of glass beneath her boots as she stealthily walked through the halls and rooms, searching for the suspect of multiple homicides. He was dangerous, she had known that, but all she could think about was the wake of murder he left behind him. She wanted it to stop, so she went in after the lead, and that decision led to her life changing completely.

She slid on a t-shirt and sweats, walking down stairs to make coffee and wait for Dan to drop Trixie off. He had texted her saying he would bring her by 10:00 this morning, so she had an hour left to wait. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with her daughter and snuggle all weekend. Maybe they would go get ice cream or more chocolate cake. The hot coffee slid down her throat, burning its normal comforting embrace into her stomach and warming her soul with every sip.

* * *

Surprisingly punctual, the doorbell rang at 10:00 before Trixie ran through the door. Even though he had a key, Dan always informed her of his presence before he barged in. He understood their boundaries, mostly, and she was grateful for that.

"Mommy!" Trixie screamed, running into her mother's arms, huge smile on her face.

"Hey, monkey," Chloe greeted, an endearing sigh as she hugged the little girl tightly. She looked up from her crouched position to see Dan standing in front of her, a small smile on his face, but she could tell there was something else. "Hey, what's up?" she asked him, standing up one free from Trixie's arms.

"Trix, why don't you go draw mommy a picture?" Dan asked, all smiles for his daughter. The little girl grinned ear to ear and took off towards the table. "How are you doing?" he asked, sincere and serious.

Chloe tried to stay neutral, but she really didn't want to talk about anything. "I'm fine, Dan. Thank you. For everything," she added, hoping he knew she was talking about his discretion. He really was a good guy, they just weren't good for each other.

"Um, I was just wanting to ask you," he started, clearly looking a little uncomfortable, and unsure of how to go about asking his question. "Ella mentioned something about that guy, um, the one that helped you."

Chloe looked at him, a momentary feeling of worry spread through her, but it was quickly washed away. There was nothing to worry about, there was nothing to feel about it. "Yeah? What about him?"

"Well, she said that he knew you, that he's a student," he finished, the sentence an almost-question. She recognized the look on his face: the look of thinking he understood what was going on.

"What are you trying to say, Dan?" she asked, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. She was getting mad now.

"Nothing, Chlo-," he started, his hands coming up as he took a step towards her. She took a step back, irritation apparent on her face. She _hated_ that nickname.

"No, what are you trying to say? You think I was meeting a student there? Really?" She asked, hurt clear on her features. How could he think that of her? Plus, he had no right to ask that question. "I don't control where students go, Dan. I met Ella there and he just happened to be there." She didn't need to explain herself, but she felt it prudent to do so.

"Okay, okay," he stammered, his face darkening. "It's just, he has a record. He's dangerous," he continued, as if trying to persuade her that he was a bad idea.

"He's a student," Chloe stated pointedly, making every word clear. "I don't care about what he's done." She finished sternly. She couldn't believe that this is the line of questioning Dan chose to follow. She was pissed, but she knew that any ex-husband would ask that if they found out the guy defending their ex wasn't a stranger. Especially one that looked like that.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said, looking right at her. She turned around to see Trixie drawing furiously onto a sheet of paper. "Weird name, though."

She turned back to face him, his eyebrow up, waiting for her to agree. She laughed a little, a puff of air blowing on a strand of hair near her mouth. "Yeah," she agreed, a smile starting to form on her lips again.

Dan left soon after their little _chat_ about Lucifer, leaving Chloe to cuddle and watch multiple Disney movies between snack breaks and chocolate cake hunting adventures. Her whole weekend was revolved around being with Trixie, and savoring every second of it, allowing the happy squeals of the girl drown out her memories of her own screams.

* * *

She gave it the weekend. She did nothing all weekend work-related. Not that she had that much to do, but Monday was for meetings, office hours, as well as some much needed time-away-from-home time. She would need to make sure the students knew her office hours, when they would be sure to find her on campus. She had given them her cell in the syllabus, knowing that not a single one of them had seen it. That was the new thing these days, giving your cell number to a bunch of budding adults hoping that the familiarity of technical communication would urge them to come to her with questions.

Her office smelled stale. She was never in it long enough to make it smell used. She should get an air freshener. Candles were strictly forbidden on campus. I guess one too many drunk college kids have lit something on fire. Perhaps a tropical scent, coconut-y. Make her feel like she's on a little vacation, sipping piña coladas on the beach. Or maybe one of those tobacco bourbon scents. It would, at least, smell more professional. However, the dust scent would have to do today.

She opened her lap top, the work one, the administration does not _need_ to know the extent of her browsing history. Not that it's bad, but everyone needs their secrets. Once logged in she could see the absurd number of emails she had. This school was insane when it came to emails. She had about twenty come in over the weekend. It was all shit. Shit she didn't need to know about. She went about mindlessly clicking through, just making sure it was obsolete, and deleting them. The email regarding the criminal justice department dinner was interesting, especially since it "seriously suggested" all faculty in that department should attend. _Wonderful. _

She sighed once all of the irrelevant emails were gone. She needed more coffee if she was going to survive those meetings in a few hours. She left her office and headed towards the reliable coffee cart that was always there. She had grown to love seeing that little cart, knowing it held the key to her caffeine-addicted heart. There were a few people in line, but it was worth the wait. She stood behind a few girls and one guy that reeked of beer and weed. _Lovely_. As she waited she tried to decide between a regular cream with sugar or a vanilla latte, she very rarely chose anything else.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor," a smooth, velvety voice whispered by her ear. It caught her off guard and she nearly dropped her wallet as she jumped, startled.

"Shit," she breathed, holding her hand to her chest as she turned around, her eyes wide while his expression was amused. She took the moment of recovery to notice what he was wearing. He was in a dark maroon suit with a charcoal grey shirt. Dressed to the nines for a Monday morning at school.

"I didn't meant to startle you," he laughed lightly, his hands going into his pockets. She noticed that he never carried anything. Never had a laptop or a notebook, never a textbook. Seems he just absorbed information through osmosis.

"It's fine," Chloe said, her breathing coming back to normal. He always had the best smiles, one that made everyone else want to smile, as well. She could see he wanted to say something. His lips kept twitching but he stopped himself every time. "I wanted to thank you," she started, dropping the level of her voice down so only he could hear her.

Lucifer shook his head, his expression turning serious. "No thanks necessary," he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Chloe watched him and she could see that the middle finger on his right hand was swollen and bruised, his knuckles slightly red with small cuts on them. He noticed her observation and stretched out his hand, as best he could. "It's nothing, really."

"Is it broken?" Chloe asked, her voice quiet. She appreciated his nonchalance about it. He wasn't treating her like some pathetic victim, instead, he just seemed compassionate.

"Just the finger. I've had worse," he replied, stretching the hand one more time to show it wasn't horrible. "You could kiss it to make it better," he suggested, taking away all seriousness and applying an exaggerated pouty expression on his face.

Chloe stood there, her mouth open, but the corners turned up slightly. She just couldn't believe how absolutely shameless this guy was with the flirting. "You are unbelievable," she laughed out, shaking her head at him. All he could do was smile, and she found that, strangely, endearing.

"Worth a shot," he explained, shrugging his shoulders, the material of his shirt rippling across his chest. "You could buy me a drink, since you feel like thanking me." He placed his hands back in his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. He turned his head down and looked back up at her through black lashes.

For the second time in seconds he had forced her jaw to hit the floor. Could he actually be serious? She stepped forward, still unsure of how she should answer him. "Are you serious right now? Did you just ask me out?" She wasn't angry, but she was baffled. _The balls on this guy (no, don't think about that). _

"No, I was suggesting you take me out and repay my heroics with a drink," he retorted, his typical smug grin on his face. He watched her look at him as if he had a second head before stepping up and ordering her coffee. She stepped to the side, letting him order his own.

Chloe took her coffee as Lucifer stood to the side, waiting on his own. Before he could pay, she quickly handed the barista a crumpled $10. "I've got his, too," she said, turning to smile at him. She leaned in a bit closer so she could whisper to him. "There's your drink."

The expression on his face was priceless: it was somewhere between awe and smug. "Touché, Professor," he responded as he took his coffee from the cart's counter.

Chloe huffed out a laugh, a warm smile on her face as she started to walk back to her office. "Okay, have a good day Mr. Morningstar."

Lucifer took a step, lightly grabbing her elbow to stop her. His touch was light but purposed, his expression back to somber. "I had wanted to talk to you, that night, but it didn't seem right," he started, his voice deep and low. "How are you?"

He had held on to her elbow for a few seconds and she watched as he took a step closer so he was looking down at her, without making her feel small or intimidated. She could tell he was genuinely concerned, and the closeness was just to keep things quiet, or to gauge her expressions. "Yeah, I'm okay," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A small part of her had hoped he would just remain his light, humorous self, but she didn't mind his question. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," he said quickly, nodding. She could tell he didn't believe her, but he accepted her answer. She was beyond grateful for that, for not trying to pry into her answer. He bit his lip, turning the paper cup in his hand and staring at the ground. "Well, I'll let you get back to your day, Professor," he said, lifting his free hand to give her a small wave. "Thank you for the coffee."

"Don't mention it," she responded, watching him walk away towards the other side of campus. She shook her head, puzzled by the enigma of a man walking away. She went back to her office to prepare for her meetings in a much better mood than she had been when she left.

* * *

Lucifer walked quickly to where he needed to be. The criminal justice department was on the other side of campus from where the business administration department was. Reading the syllabus, he knew that she had office hours today, as well as Wednesday, but it was a surprise to see her at the coffee cart. He just couldn't let that opportunity slip. He sipped his coffee as he walked, groaning into the cup. This was the best damned coffee he'd ever had.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what did you think? Let me know, please! I love to read your reviews! They make my day! I hope you liked that little interaction. I thought it was cute :) Until next time...

**Also! In my rush to get this out for you guys, I forgot to give credit to Agusai for the coffee scene! Thank you! I'm glad it worked out! PS: Sorry for not putting this in sooner!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Okay, so I'm going to clear up a few questions I've received in the comments. This is a very AU piece. There will be no supernatural elements in it, so I'm sorry if that's what you were hoping for. In this story, Lucifer is not the devil, I'm just taking the characters and their personalities and making my own characters and story with that. I hope that makes sense. In this story, Lucifer is younger than Chloe. I have it so that he is about 27 and she is about 35. Their pasts will come up eventually, but part of the story is the reveal of those pasts throughout. I apologize if any of you have felt lead on, but I do hope you'll continue to enjoy this story as it progresses. I have plans, and I like pace of things now. WARNING: I know you don't like any action between Lucifer and an OC, but it's part of his character. Even int he show he doesn't stop having sex just because he wants Chloe. So, yeah, I hope that helps. Feel free to PM me with other questions. I hope I can answer them. However, here's an update. I had some company and have had literally no time to work on this. Sorry for the wait! Enjoy! **TRIGGER WARNING: **Heavy alcohol and slight drug use in this chapter.

* * *

The day was dragging. It was only 3 pm, her meetings had lasted longer than they should have, but that's what happens when you have a bunch of administrators, with nothing to do, sit in a room together. It was not the kind of day she had hoped to keep her mind busy. Any time she felt herself relax, images of a few nights ago flashed in front of her, those images brought on images from months ago. It was like a bad movie on repeat whenever she let herself take a deep breath. She was good at the poker face. She was good at appearing perfectly fine. While her breath was shaky at times, no one knew her well enough to notice.

The trek back to her office was long, but the day was mild, a cool breeze from the ocean flowing through her hair. She could smell the salt, which was rare when living in a city under a perpetual cloud of smog. She noticed that her office door was ajar, she had not left it like that. She had left it unlocked, which was stupid, but she didn't leave anything important, so there was nothing to take. She couldn't see anything off through the small crack in the door, it wasn't until she started to push it open that she noticed the figure sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

As soon as the door moved, Lucifer look over his shoulder and Chloe didn't move closer, her eyes widening and her brows scrunching. "There's not someone under my desk, is there?"

His eyebrows drew together in a dumbfounded expression before busting out into laughter. "No, nothing salacious going on here, unfortunately," he replied, turning in the chair to face her.

"Okay, just had to make sure," Chloe said with a smile, walking into the office, leaving the door slightly open. She did _not_ need to give off any sort of appearances. Lucifer noted the open door, smiling to himself at her potential thought processes. "Last time I was in this situation I saw _way_ too much."

"Well, we can certainly recreate the scene, if you're interested," he suggested, one dark eyebrow shooting up, his fingers tapping on the desk. He started laughing when she said nothing, only remained standing next to her door, her expression complete bewilderment.

"You can't say shit like that to me. I am your _teacher!_" she yelled in a hushed tone. She walked along the walls of the small office, staying as far away from him as she could as she moved towards the chair behind her desk. "Now, are you here about class or are you here to just be inappropriate?" Her tone was irritated, but her face was amused. The accent and looks really helped him get away with a lot.

"While I always approve of inappropriate behavior, alas, I am here for neither," he admitted, leaning back, his legs spreading slightly in the small chair.

Chloe couldn't help but roll her eyes before looking at him. He no longer wore his smug grin, nor had a flirtation spark in his eye, he was all seriousness. "So, why are you here?" She looked at him quizzically. She could see a thought-train going on behind his eyes, she could tell he had something he wanted to say by the way one of his knees bounced lightly.

"I wanted to talk with you," he stated, wetting his lips nervously. His knee began bouncing harder as his nerves neared overdrive. He wasn't much for talking, more for _doing, _really, but he had been bothered by what he saw in her eyes. He had been interested in why she didn't shy away from him after beating that sad sack into a pulp, like her friend had. He had never really cared to talk to anyone about feelings or experiences before, not outside of sex-related activities. He was just as confused as she was. This was new to him.

"What about?" she asked casually, pulling out her laptop but leaving it closed on her desk. She had an uneasy feeling about the direction of this conversation, but really wasn't sure what he would want to talk about.

He could see her discomfort, he could even feel the tension of it in the air. She was being polite, professional, but he could tell she didn't really want to go down that path, but his curiosity was strong. He had the urge to know, to understand what he saw. To understand why she had the same tortured look in her eyes that he had when he would let himself get sober enough. It was a desire he had never experienced before. Typically, he wasn't too concerned with the emotions of the people entering and leaving his life, but this woman, Chloe Decker, was different. He felt compelled to understand the pain in her eyes just as much as he felt compelled to soothe it.

"Last Friday," he began, observing the way her expression tightened at the mention of that day. "I can't shake this feeling that your reaction was caused by something else," He paused, cautiously looking across the desk at her.

"My reaction?" she asked pointedly, folding her arms across her chest. "You _feel_ my reaction to being assaulted in an alley next to a bar was unjustified? What? Was wrong for the situation?" Her voice started to rise as her anger increased. She could feel her heart rate increasing along with her breathing, the beginnings of a flush burning at her neck.

"No, not at all," he assured quickly. He was growing more and more uncomfortable as he realized he was making her mad. He was not equipped to talk about things like this. All he knew how to do was suppress feelings, drown them with alcohol and numb them with drugs, not talk about them. "I'm trying to say that I saw something else. Something more like trauma." He was treading rough water, he knew that. He could tell by the way the blue of her eyes faded to more of a grey, the way the ocean turns the color of stone in a storm.

"Yeah, situations like that can be traumatic," Chloe retorted, clenching her jaw before forcing herself to lower her raising shoulders. His questioning was making all the muscles in her body tense and ache. She could feel her body begin to tremble, a slight panicked tremble that only she was aware of. It's why she didn't talk about this. Talking about it made her feel it all over again.

"A previous trauma, Professor," he whispered, his bouncing leg stiffening before his knee continued to bounce uncontrollably. "I think something happened to you before that night, that's why you couldn't fight back; you were paralyzed by it, I could see that."

Chloe sat, frozen, nervous, worried. She felt shame for being so transparent that a stranger could see past her strong façade. She was ashamed with not being able to hide it better. If he could see that, anyone else could, too. However, no one else had questioned her, had asked about anything further than what she reported at the hospital. All while the sinking fear washed over her, a sense of false calm hit her hard. There was absolutely no way he could know anything.

"How could you possibly pretend to know anything like that?" Chloe asked, her voice soft, but firm. She felt threatened, mentally confronted. For the first time in a while, she was being questioned deeper than anyone, even the people she knew, had ever tried to go. She decided to pull out her inner detective, the person she had packed away neatly in order to act like a civilian. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I don't _pretend _to know anything, I'm just perceptive," he replied, his tone heating slightly. "I don't claim to be the best at understanding, but I can tell when someone is hiding something."

"You think I'm hiding something?" she asked incredulously, her face as stoic as a statue. "You don't even know me." She fought the urge to scoff at him, doing so would give away her thoughts too much.

"True, but I recognize that look in your eyes. That pain, that seething anger," he started, leaning forward in his chair. He eyed her for a moment, his gaze darting between her eyes and lips, analytical. "It's the same look I see every day in the mirror."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she stated softly as she looked down at her hands in her lap. She didn't have to listen to this, to him. She could ask him to leave and she knew he would, but the softness in his voice was comforting in a strange way. His words wrapped around in her forebrain. _The same look I see every day in the mirror._ Had something happened to him that made it easy to look through her façade as if it were glass? Asking about it would only drag him further into her own problems, and that was not something she wanted.

"Being perceptive also helps me know when people are lying, Professor," he said, leaning back in his chair. "That moment in the alley, when I was close to you, I saw it. Behind that panic, there was anger."

"What are you, a psych major or something?" she bit out harshly. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. He was right. She was angry, she had been fuming behind all of that paralyzing fear and anxiety. How could he know that? No one knew what happened months ago. What _truly_ happened, beyond the beating.

"Business, actually," he replied quickly, raising an eyebrow at her assumption. He could tell he finally struck a chord. He was getting somewhere, even if he wasn't sure where he was getting.

Her eyebrows knitted together and she shook her head. "Business? Why are you in my class?" That possibly explained why he looked so out of place in her class. He was entirely put together while all of the other students looked as if they had just rolled out of bed or had better places to be.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was trying to change the subject. "I'm working on my MBA, I needed an elective." He answered matter-of-factly.

"Wait, you're a grad student?" she asked, holding up a hand in his direction. He nodded, giving her a quizzical look. _Well, that's why he looked older._ "Why the hell are you taking an undergrad criminal justice class?"

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. "I have a busy schedule this semester; I fucked around too much last year. I just wanted an easier class, and yours was open." She tilted her head to the side, taking in the man before her. _Business explained the suits_.

"Okay, fair enough," she said, lowering her hands to her desk. She was content with the new topic. It answered a few questions for her that were probably the reasoning behind him living in the back of her head, the idea of him just barely conscious.

"Since you've changed the subject," he started, his hands resting on his knees. "You never did answer my question from the first day of class. Why are you here and not with LAPD?"

Chloe regarded him for a moment. She could remember how he surprised her with that question, how that was when she first saw him in class. "There was an incident while I was on the job," she began, looking down at her hands before looking back into his eyes. "I got hurt, my daughter asked me to stop, so I did."

Lucifer's lips parted as he dipped his head, a hint of recognition in his eyes. "You were the cop on the news a few months ago?" Chloe nodded, chewing on her lip. She remembered the headlines, _Female Cop Brutally Attacked and Hospitalized_. They had managed to keep her name out of the news, for her safety, in case anyone who knew the guy wanted to finish her off.

"Yeah, so that's why I'm here. It's safe. My daughter's happy." She did not think she would be sharing this much information with him. He was easy to talk to, and that frightened her a little. He was a good listener, he made very word seem important, and that was a rare skill these days. "Now, are you done or are you going to try to interrogate me more?" Her words came out harsh, berating, more so than she intended. She could see the hurt in his eyes and for a second, she felt guilty, but that quickly faded from her mind.

He sat there, blankly. He opened his mouth a few times before closing it with a sigh, deciding nothing he could say would better the situation. He gripped the armrests of the chair, pushing himself up to stand. Lucifer ran his hands down the front of his jacket, smoothing the wrinkles as he rolled his neck, releasing a kink. "I was just trying to help," he stated softly, giving her a sad smile before turning towards her office door.

Chloe watched as his hand grabbed the handle, he hesitated, head dipping as if waiting for her to tell him to stay. She wouldn't. "Why do you care?" she asked, façade gone, genuine curiosity flowing through her thoughts. She could see his grip on the handle tightened, but he stayed facing the door.

"I don't know," he replied with a frustrated sigh before opening the door. He stepped halfway through the opening, staring at the ground. "I'll see you Thursday, Professor," he finished, quickly walking out and closing the door behind him, leaving Chloe sitting in her chair, shocked, staring at the empty seat in front of her.

* * *

_Fuck. _Why did he care? That was the million dollar question. Lucifer hastily walked away from Chloe's office, the ache in his head rocked with every step he took, reminding him of how sober he mistakenly allowed himself to get. He never let himself care. What was the point? It was so much easier to go about his life giving into the sins of the flesh, without all of that emotional muck to get in the way. However, he was willing to drag himself through her emotional muck to get to her. He _loathed_ himself for that. Of course he would find the one woman he wanted to understand who wanted nothing to do with him.

He needed a drink, he needed a few drinks. Any substance to stop the ache in his head and chest. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, grabbing the slim flask. He unscrewed the lid and took a long pull, savoring the oaky finish. He kept it out, knowing that its content would last him until he got to his apartment. There he would binge, allow himself to sleep it off just enough to be able to get himself to some sort of pretentious club filled with willing and able bodies to take one by one. It was still afternoon, he would have many hours of drinking and sleeping to do before the nightlife he needed would wake up.

Luckily he didn't live far from campus, just far enough to be away from the dorm-life he dreaded, but close enough to still have his fill of co-eds. He was just starting to feel the alcohol from his long-empty flask as he entered his dwelling, immaculate and simple. He walked over to the counter where half a dozen bottles were lined neatly against the wall. He grabbed one of the cheaper whiskeys, deciding not to waste exquisite taste on the pure need of getting drunk. Cheap would do just fine for that job.

He sat on his couch, bottle in hand, his other hand resting across his forehead, fingers and thumb pressing into his temples. The ache in his head was subsiding, but the tightness in his chest had yet to be drowned away. He unscrewed the bottle, tossing away the cap and taking a few swigs before lowering it. He exhaled loudly as the alcohol rushed down his throat, burning and comforting. Lucifer was nearing his therapeutic level of intoxication, but he wanted to go past that to let himself sleep peacefully until the evening.

Relaxing into the soft embrace of his couch, he closed his eyes, his fingers playing along the neck of the bottle before taking three more generous sips. _There is was_. That sweet spot he needed. He could feel the tension in his body melting away, the tightness in his chest lifted, allowing him to breathe once again. He licked his lips, the sweet taste of whiskey was all he could taste as a contented smile turned the corners of his lips. His contented expression quickly changed when flashes of her face invaded his mind. First was her nubile face from the movie, then it flashed into her face from the first day of class, then back to her movie face, then to her face that night in the alley. Slowly, only two of her faces kept flashing back and forth, the needy, wanting one and the fearful, angry one. He squinted his eyes tightly, shaking his head as his imagination kept going between sun-kissed skin, full, parted lips, sexy gasp, to a wide-eyed, panicked, breathless face.

Lucifer forced his eyes open, the images of her face disappearing in an instant. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his breathing ragged, and a light sheen of sweat covering his skin. He clearly needed more. As he stood to walk over to his nightstand, bottle loose in his hand, he noticed how his pants were a little tighter. He felt himself half-hard, no chance of the blood draining anytime soon. _What the fuck was wrong with him? _He continued to stumble towards his bed, sitting down and sliding towards the drawer on his nightstand. He opened it and searched for the small baggie he knew was in there. He smiled when he found it, the chalky bag with a handful of white pills. He shook out two pills, deciding caution was best since he couldn't quite remember what they were. He swallowed them down harshly with more whiskey before setting the bottle on the table. He pushed himself back on the bed, letting his body sink into the mattress, quickly forgetting his whisky fever-dream he had on the couch. Whenever he woke up, he would go out and find someone to take care of the erection in his pants.

* * *

Lucifer woke to the sounds of honking horns and distant yells from the street. He opened his eyes to a dim light, the last remaining rays of sunlight just barely making it through his windows. He blinked his eyes a few times, he could still feel the alcohol in his system, as well as the high from whatever those pills were. _He really needed to start labeling those_. His mouth was dry as hell so he willed himself to get up and get a drink of water. Still therapeutically intoxicated, he rested his hands on the bed as he walked around the edge. Once he felt like he had his bearings, he let go and walked towards the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, downing it in only a handful of gulps, regaining some of the hydration he lost that afternoon.

He checked his watch, squinting his eyes to right his blurry vision. Just after 7 pm, it was almost time to head out and continue his escapades as a young, foreign bachelor in L.A. He hummed to himself as the blissful vibrations of drink and drug coursed through his body. He almost couldn't remember why he wanted to numb his mind to this degree. Almost. The hurt feelings were still there, but barely noticeable. He had tried to feel something, he had tried to be helpful for a change, and instead, he just pushed her away, made her mad and uncomfortable. It's why he didn't talk, it's why he only used his mouth for more pleasurable things.

He left his kitchen to fetch the whiskey bottle from his nightstand. He sloshed the remaining liquid around, watching the amber color glow in the orange light from the setting sun. He took one large swig before setting the bottle back down and shrugging out of his suit jacket. It was completely wrinkled from sleeping in it. He decided that the rest of his attire was decent enough for the evening, choosing to undo the top two buttons of his shirt to give him a more inviting look. Well, inviting in the I'm-here-to-fuck-someone kind of way. It never failed.

He left his apartment without checking the state of his appearance, opting to walk instead of drive or take a cab. The fresh air felt good on his skin, filling his lungs with the usual scent of salt and gas. The good thing about L.A. was that there was a club on, at least, every other block. One did not have to travel far to enter into a din of inequity in this city of sin. He walked until he saw a neon sign hanging in the air. The ones with neon signs always had the best girls: young, eager to drink themselves sick, and more than willing to accept his company wherever it may lead. He approached the door, glad to see there was not line yet. The bouncer motioned him forward, his less than put-together appearance making him look old enough to be there.

The inside was just as he expected: black light posters and lights hanging from every ceiling and wall, too-loud music bumping, almost painfully, throughout the large room. There was a decent crowd of people dancing, but it wasn't full yet. He always liked to come at this hour so he could sit at the bar and wait for someone to walk in who piqued his interest. Once at the bar, he ordered a double scotch, leaning with his back against the bar to survey the dance floor. It was nights like these where he felt the most predatory. The alcohol and drugs enhancing his senses, his libido radiating like a sexual aura, and his eyes searching for the prey that stood out the most. It is what helped him forget everything else and focus on a singular goal.

He watched for an hour, enjoying another glass as the club continued to fill up. So far, no one had stood out to him. He had some glances, a few smiles and giggles from crowds, but he hadn't seen the look he was after. He wanted that hungry look in their eyes because he was in no mood for taking his time. He had almost given up on the place when a woman with golden brown hair approached him. She was in a short, tight, red dress that accentuated all of her curves. She was older, but she looked great, her lips were painted the same color of her dress, no wedding ring in sight. The woman sauntered over next to him, sitting on a stool, just barely glancing in his direction. She was tall with long, delicate limbs; a statuesque beauty.

He watched her order a drink, vodka neat, and she looked over at him while she took a sip of the clear liquid, her lips stamping the glass. "Now, why would someone who looks like you come to a place like this?" he asked, downing the contents of his own glass. He shifted closer to her, turning to the side to be able to look at her better.

She eyed him up and down before speaking, devouring him with her eyes. "I could ask you the same question," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips as she crossed her legs in his direction. He watched the way the light glinted off of her tanned skin as she shifted. He raised an eyebrow at her, nodding his head at her retort. There was an unspoken moment as they both stared at each other. He could see the hunger in her eyes, the pure desire of finding exactly what she wanted. She wasn't a woman that _needed_ anything. She got what she wanted when she wanted it. Lucifer was happy to be her kill for the night.

"Ask me something else," he stated, his eyes going dark, glistening over with hope. He knew he wasn't wrong. He knew the moment she sat down next to him that he was going to have her. He let his tongue barely fall past his lips as he moved even closer to her.

The woman smiled dangerously, her pupils dilating in excitement, her prize right in front of her. "I'm staying at Hotel Gleam. Come back with me?" She asked, but it was more of a command than a question. She didn't lean in closer to him, didn't even try to reach out to touch him. She knew she would get to do so much more once in her room.

Lucifer pulled $40 from his wallet, throwing the bills between their drinks, easily covering the cost for both. "After you," he said, motioning for her to lead the way. She said nothing as she stood up and began walking towards the doors, moving along the side of the wall to avoid the drunken dancers as best she could. Lucifer followed closely, but not too close, watching her slim hips sway with every step. He had no idea who she was, but she didn't even know his name, either. He was fine with that. Sometimes, knowing anything ruined the thrill.

The hotel was a short walking distance away. It was a dark, sleek building intended for those of wealth and power. She looked completely at home in the stark surroundings. She never once looked back to see if he was still behind her, she knew he would be. Lucifer could appreciate her confidence, he often felt the same way about some of the people he met while out. The ride in the elevator was quiet, not even soft elevator music tainted the silence as they rode up to her floor.

Her pace quickened as she walked down the hall, turning towards a door and pulling the key card from her clutch. He stood right behind her, his hand poised to touch her as she pushed the door open, pulling him inside by the top of his pants. _There it was_. That hunger he was craving. She attacked his mouth, shoving him against the closed door, pressing her body into his. He gladly accepted, vodka and scotch mixing together between them as she pulled his shirt out of his pants and started opening the buttons. She was fast, but not frantic, stepping back to admire him as he slipped out of his shirt.

She walked back towards him, turning around just before leaning against him. His hands found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down and peeling the fabric from her body, biting at the top of her shoulder as he pushed it past her hips. That earned him an appreciative groan as she stepped out of the dress, kicking it off to the side and out of their way. He kissed along her neck as he moved them forward in the room, turning her around before pushing her down to the bed. She sat on the edge, leaning up to get a better view of him as he knelt between her thighs, draping a single leg over his shoulder, the heel of her stiletto digging into the skin of his back.

This is what they needed. Without more than a few sentences, they could tell they were both after the same thing. Someone to use to get away from their thoughts. To escape to a world where emotions and drama had no place. To be in a moment that would end without tragedy or pain. To pour their souls into their task, be selfish in seeking their pleasure, and then leave it all behind and continue on with their lives. He didn't know her name, he didn't care to know it, he didn't care to know what she had experienced in her life to make her this way, to make her look cold. It wasn't like with the Professor, someone that made him feel something he couldn't recognize. This was comfortable, the purely physical connection, what he felt around Chloe was uncomfortable, but addicting. Hopefully he could get solace from that between the thighs of this woman.

It worked. For only a moment.

* * *

**A/N:** So I kept non-Chloe action brief in this. I felt that it was just enough to further his story. Any guesses as to who the woman is? Also, how are we feeling about their angsty little conversation? PM and Review! I love reading them! Until next time, my dark ones!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Oh, dear reader! I apologize for my absence! I've had a lot going on over here and have had NO time to work on this. Sad, yes. I do hope you enjoy this chapter. It's dialogue heave, just a warning, but was such fun to write their banter! I do hope you enjoy! Have fun!

* * *

Wednesday night, technically early Thursday morning: his third night of attempting to obliterate his emotions through booze, drugs, and sex. The night of his string-free tryst with the woman in red had shown him why he chose to live this way. She didn't ask questions, she didn't even as for his name. They fucked just to feel the physical actions of taking what they wanted from someone else. He had left her room immediately after with nothing more than a sly smile between them and red stains on his skin. By night three, he was less particular, less on the hunt and more just waiting to be found.

Lucifer couldn't remember the name of where he was, and he certainly had no idea of how much he had drank or what pills he had forced down. All he knew is that he felt nothing; he was completely numb to anything other than the external forces around him. It felt great to be completely emotionless inside, almost robotic, but not quite.

By this time in his bender, he was experiencing bouts of blankness, chunks of time he could not account for. He had woken up that afternoon in his apartment, he remembered that much. He sort of remembered the bracing shower he took and the pills he swallowed down with alcohol, but after that, a blur. He couldn't remember how he got to the club he was at, or what he had been drinking once he got there. He wasn't even sure of how he met the girl that he had pinned against the wall of the bathroom stall. He felt hands on him, pulling at his clothes. He could feel his own hands tangling in her hair and wrapping around her small waist. Those feelings were all that mattered in that moment, not how they got there.

He pulled his face away from her neck and he swore she looks somewhat familiar, but he was quickly pulled from his thoughts when she grabbed his hard cock through his pants. He always appreciated the needy ways drunk girls made a point about getting what they wanted. She looked up at him through thick lashes, her pupils blown, eyelids heavy, and her cheeks flushed. He spun her around, pressing her front against the stall and pulled her dress up her thighs. He let her wiggle and pull her underwear down as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He pulled a condom from his back pocket and slipped it on. He spit onto his fingers and drug them through her wet folds, circling her entrance with his middle finger. She gasped and ground back against his hand, practically begging for more. He slapped her ass before aligning himself to her hole, pushing in and reveling in the feel of her walls dragging around him.

Without having to see her face, he could imagine her to be anyone, and he did. She had sandy blonde hair, almost the same color as the woman he was thinking about. Of course, the girl looked nothing like her. She was in a dress way too short, incredibly high heels (which helped him out with the sex part, to be honest), tons of make-up, and her hair was crunchy with product. There was nothing wrong with this, but it just wasn't anything like the person he wanted it to be. Closing his eyes, however, helped. He could picture her honey-colored skin, her light blue eyes, and her full lips. He could feel the girl's hands grabbing at his thighs as he pounded into her, the thumping of bodies hitting the stall wall was barely audible in his mind.

He pressed himself against the girl, one hand fisting into her hair, the other reaching above them and holding on to the top of the stall. He could hear the girl crying out as he fucked her hard through her orgasm, the force shaking the flimsy walls of the stall. The hand in her hair slid down her weakening body as he held on to her hip, holding her steady as he pumped his release into her. Once complete, he pulled out of her, leaning on the opposite wall and tugging the condom off and tossing it into the small trash bin. He looked up and found that the girl had turned around and was eyeing him, completely spent, as she adjusted her clothing back to normal.

Lucifer pushed himself off of the wall, reaching out and cupping the girl's face in one hand and bending down to place a quick kiss to her lips. "Thank you, darling," he panted, reaching for the lock on the door. He walked out of the stall, winking at the shocked woman standing by the sink as he zipped and buttoned his pants. He could hear the stumbling clicks of high-heels as the girl he was with managed to get herself to a sink. Without looking back he pushed open the Women's restroom door and vanished back into the crowd. Lucifer decided that he was getting too sloppy to continue, besides, he had somewhere he needed to be in six hours' time.

He made his way outside, still oblivious to where he was, and nearly ran into the cab that was conveniently parked right outside the club. He patted the hood of the yellow car, raising his hand in apology to the annoyed driver. He hopped into the back, gave him his address and let himself relax into the cracked pleather seats. He was startled awake by the cab coming to an abrupt stop, the lights of his apartment building shining brightly through the window. Squinting, he threw the driver a few bills and got out, almost stumbling as he go into the elevator. He fell into his bed as soon as he reached it, letting himself fall into a deep, disoriented sleep.

* * *

Thirty minutes before the start of class and Chloe was deciding whether or not to include a pop quiz today. She hated the idea, but she wasn't sure if the students were paying attention or not. Maybe it would get them to pull their heads out of their asses and focus, or maybe they would try even harder to ignore her. Granted, not every student saw her class as a complete waste of time, but most of them appeared to simply be there so they wouldn't waste tuition money. She decided against it, instead she figured she would talk to the chairman of the department and request a projector. Perhaps gruesome crime scene photos would capture their attention.

Standing at the podium, everyone in attendance that meant to be there, it seemed, she noticed there were quite a few absences. One absence, in particular, set her off. Granted, their last encounter had not been left on a high note, but she had grown to enjoy seeing him in the mass of blank stares. She wondered where he was, she had heard him say he would see her on Thursday, but again, the day was not over. She thought he would be the type of person to show up at any given point on the day they say they would.

Pulling herself together, she started her lecture. Chain of custody in evidence was _essential_ in criminal justice, and it was held to high standards in every department and agency within the system. It was vital, and she hoped that she could get that across to them. A single mistake, simply forgetting to sign your name, could deem a piece of critical evidence invalid in the court of law, letting a potential murderer free with a miss trial.

No more than fifteen minutes in the door burst open, a very out-of-breath and disheveled Lucifer hanging on to the frame as if his life depended on it. "My apologies, Professor," he panted, swallowing thickly, his head falling back as his breathing started to even out. "If it's any consolation, I nearly killed myself getting here." He finally made his way through the door, taking a final deep breath, puffing the air into his cheeks and exhaling loudly.

Chloe stood there, her mouth hanging open in surprise. His white button-up shirt was half-way tucked out of his pants, and his pants were a rumpled mess, a few stains she didn't want to think too hard about were visible around his thighs. His shirt was only buttoned half-way up, exposing most of his chest whenever he moved his arms. His hair that was always perfect was in complete disarray, dark curls falling onto his forehead. She could see the red circles around his eyes, could see that they were bloodshot from the front of the room. He looked totally wrecked, entirely strung-out from God-knows-what. At this rate, the class was just lucky he appeared to have slept in clothes and had not burst through the doors naked. Taking in his appearance, she was surprised he even decided to show up; it would have been much easier for him to just stay in bed.

"Mr. Morningstar, I guess we're lucky you decided to grace us with your presence this morning," she stated sarcastically, noting a few giggles from the class. If he had heard her, he ignored it as he looked for the nearest empty seat he could find. He found one relatively close to the door, next to a girl that was staring at him with her mouth open. He gave her a large smile as he unceremoniously plopped down in the seat, making it creak a little under his weight.

Chloe watched as the girl next to him turned three different shades of pink before going completely red, turning her face away from him. His smile quickly turned into a confused frown as he eyed her up and down, then, like a switch, his expression changed to amusement. "Ah, margarita girl!" he burst out, clapping his hands together before resting an arm across the back of her chair. "Took me a second, but I recognize you now."

The girl continued to redden, her expression showing pure terror at his claims. Chloe watched as he continued to stare at the poor girl. His eyes didn't seem to have the same light in them that she was used to seeing, now they were just dark and blown out. It was as if he wasn't as good at hiding his pain behind charm. She could see right through the superficial carelessness and right into his aching soul. That was probably the look he said he saw in her eyes, a daunting recognition haunted her at that realization.

Lucifer smiled a little, ducking his head to try and get her attention. "How is it that you look so much more put-together than I do after only six hours since our little bathroom meeting, hm?" he asked, his voice loud enough for the entire class to hear.

"Mr. Morningstar, this is not the time for dealing with personal matters," Chloe said, her tone authoritative, and that grabbed his attention. Without turning his face, his eyes moved to make contact with hers. He held her stare and she could see a swarm of emotions going on in his dark eyes. She would have sworn that he looked dangerous, but she could tell he was just trying to hide something.

"Of course, Professor," he admitted, pulling his arm off of the girl's chair, switching his arms so that he was directly facing the front. "To be honest, I'm not sure why she's acting so shy. She definitely wasn't while I had her against the bathroom stall."

Both the girl and Chloe looked stunned. Lucifer, on the other hand, looked completely unaffected, as if he had just told everyone what the weather would be like for the day. "That's enough," Chloe warned, looking right at him. Lucifer's gaze moved towards her for a second, a small smirk forming on his lips. "Leave the girl alone, and pull yourself together. You look ridiculous."

Lucifer cocked his head to the side, his smirk growing on his features. "Oh, thank you, Darling," he said with a lilt in his voice. After a second, his expression fell to confusion as he turned to the girl next to him. "Wait, did she say ravishing or ridiculous?" His question got a giggle out of the girl, who was no longer as embarrassed as she had been. Chloe rolled her eyes, completely incensed by the man and his never-ending wit.

"Hey, man, she said leave her alone!" a voice from a few rows up yelled. Chloe looked out to see a younger guy eyeing Lucifer and the girl angrily. The two in question both turned around to see who spoke.

Lucifer looked at the girl who looked a little annoyed by the guy's intrusion into the matter. "Do you know him?" he asked, just loud enough for others to hear.

"Yeah, we've been talking," she replied, keeping her eyes on the other guy. "Matt, stay out of it, okay? I'm fine."

Chloe watched as the girl turned back around, Lucifer following her movements a second later. She could see the guy, Matt, continue to grow angrier, clearly mad at whatever had gone one between Lucifer and the girl. Almost as if to egg him on, Lucifer slowly put his arm along the back of her chair again, slightly leaning in her direction. The taunt worked and Matt abruptly stood and started moving towards them.

Chloe was losing control of her class, everyone deadly focused on the show that was bound to play before them as Matt stopped at the aisle right next to Lucifer. He glared at the man, his hands forming into shaky fists at his sides. She wasn't sure what was about to happen, but she knew it wasn't good. Having spent years watching situations like this unfold, she knew she had to try to intervene. "Matt, go sit back down," she said, her voice soft but firm.

"I'd listen to the Professor, Matthew," Lucifer jeered, turning his gaze towards the kid next to him. "Go sit down." Matt didn't listen, instead his stepped even closer to Lucifer.

"Matt, please, we'll talk after class, okay?" the girl said in a soft tone. She was trying her best to smile at the guy, trying to diffuse the situation. She was leaning forward to look at him past Lucifer, her expression caring but distant. It was clear that she was not very close with Matt.

"No, Emma," Matt said through gritted teeth, his eyes shooting daggers at Lucifer. "He's being an asshole." He was pointing at Lucifer now, but all the taller man could do was smirk up at him.

"Look, I understand you're a little put off about this, I get it, she's a 10, but she's not yours, she can _do_ whatever she wants," he said, eyeing the guy carefully. He was giving him a chance to back off, to escape. "Including me," he said, adding just a touch of cannon fodder to the kid's jealousy. Turns out, he was baiting him, as well.

With that final addition, Matt lost his control and began to lift his fist to swing at Lucifer. Lucifer caught him by the wrist and stood up, towering over the poor guy, his other hand forming a fist by his side. Lucifer's expression changed from amused to irate in an instant. Chloe could see the anger swelling in him, and she knew that she had to stop this before someone got hurt.

"Lucifer!" she yelled, the entire class turning their attention back to the front, including the man she yelled at. He glared at her, the same dangerous look she had seen the night she was attacked in the alley. After a moment, Lucifer let Matt go, shoving him towards the direction of his seat. Chloe took a deep breath and pointed towards the door. "You need to leave," she ordered, walking towards the door to hold it open.

Lucifer scoffed and nodded, walking the short distance to the door. "Putting me on the naughty step, are we?" he asked, frustration dripping off his tongue like venom as he spoke. Without looking at her, he started walking through the doorway but Chloe lightly grabbed his arm, out of site from the rest of the class. "Go wait in my office," she whispered before turning around and closing the door behind him.

Chloe walked back to the podium, her boots making a loud sound in the all-too-quiet atrium of the classroom. The entire class started whispering to themselves, all discussing the scene that played out like a live reality-TV performed right in front of them. She took a deep breath, clearing her throat loudly to hopefully regain the attention of the rest of the students. She looked up to see Matt back in his seat, still looking angry, but slightly afraid, too. The girl, Emma, apparently, sat still and quiet, her eyes wide. She hadn't done anything wrong, but Chloe recognized that look of guilt on her features. Women were always made to feel guilty for acting the way any man was allowed to act. It wasn't fair for her to be fought over like that; she wasn't a prized cattle.

Chloe continued with her lecture, slowly calming the students down; if they were listening, she couldn't tell. She was just glad that nothing else dramatic happened the rest of the time. As she spoke, she thought about Lucifer, what she had seen, and what could possibly have driven him to act out the way he did. This was not the same put-together, coiffed, and charming Lucifer she was used to seeing. He seemed to be a different person entirely, almost, anyways. She thought about what she was going to say to him, why she asked him to wait in her office. She shouldn't care as much as she was, and that rocked her. She thought back to when he wanted to talk to her earlier that week. She wondered if this is how he felt, unsure of why he cared, just knowing that he did.

* * *

She ended class a few minutes early, there was no point in even continuing after the almost-fiasco, but she didn't want to just let everyone leave right after. She dismissed them, urging them all to read the syllabus and look at due dates and the timeline, but she was sure her advice fell on deaf ears. Once every student had vacated, she quickly gathered her things and walked next door to her office, where, she hoped, Lucifer would be waiting. She had a few words for him.

Chloe opened the office door to find Lucifer sitting in her chair, slumped over on her desk. She slammed the office door, causing him to startle and lift his head up, groaning when he saw her standing in front of him. Chloe sighed, walking around her desk and started pushing on her chair trying to force him out of it. "Get up," she ordered, finally succeeding in tilting him out of the chair. He grumbled loudly, stumbling over to the small chair in front of her desk. He plopped down, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chloe asked, her voice hard and irritated. She could feel the warmth his body left behind on the chair, she could also smell the pure alcohol oozing out of every pore.

Lucifer laughed then grimaced at the action, sitting up and bracing his hands on the edge of her desk. "A lot," he replied, his eyes closed as he sighed deeply.

Chloe didn't want to hear that bullshit. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair, eyeing the disheveled man in front of her. "No, seriously, what was that in there? First you come in looking like that," she says, motioning towards him, her hand moving up and down. She watched him roll his eyes before looking down at himself and trying to fix his crumpled shirt. "Then you go off about sleeping with her in the middle of class. That's highly inappropriate, but you know that, don't you?" she continued, refolding her arms. She felt both like a teacher and a detective, scolding a student like she would a suspect.

"I made it to class, didn't I?" he asked pointedly, moving his tongue around in his too-dry mouth. The hangover was starting to hit him hard with the lack of substances in his system. He always hated this part of coming back down. The part where his body felt just as bad as his mind.

"Sure, but then you made a completely ass of yourself. I mean, you're a grown ass man, what are you doing messing with those kids?"

"I can tell you right now, she's no child," he said matter-of-factly, holding up his finger at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but he clearly wasn't finished. "And _Matthew_ is definitely old enough to get his ass kicked, Professor," he said, ending his sentence with her title deliberately. He stared at her, watching as she took in what he was saying. "However, I understand what you mean."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. She hadn't figured he could be insightful in his current state, but it still didn't make up for his behavior. She took the time to think about what she was going to say next. She was going to ask about the anger, and she knew the conversation would take a nosedive from civil. "What would you have done if I hadn't have stopped you? Would you have hit him?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her question. He wasn't expecting she wouldn't bring it up, but he didn't think she would ask that. He had hoped she would have berated him for grabbing the kid, but nothing more. "If he had swung at me again, then yes," he replied truthfully. He had no reason to lie to anyone, ever.

Chloe appreciated his honesty, most people would have given her the answer they thought she wanted to hear. He, at least, gave the answer she knew to be true. "Okay," she said, leaving it at that. She took another moment to gauge his demeanor, noting the way he kept his eyes half-closed, how he swallowed thickly. She could tell he was pushing towards completely sober, but wasn't quite there. "I recognized a look in there," she said, looking at him as he sat with his eyes closed. He didn't move, but his eyes opened to hold her gaze intensely.

"What look?" he asked without any interest in his words. He continued to stare at her and he could see the thoughts that were running through her head. She was choosing her words wisely, he respected that.

"The same look I saw in the alley, when you were looking at that guy," she started, observing him for any reaction. "A dangerous, enraged sort of look. I've seen it before, in my line of work," she said, watching his face go from indifferent to nervous. "You know, maybe the look you say you saw in me, the look you said you see in the mirror," she finished, leaving the sentence running for him to inject at any time. She watched his jaw tense as his head tilted to the side slightly. She could tell he was trying to keep himself collected, to not let himself get mad.

"Well, turnabout's fair play, I suppose" he said, rubbing his temples as he adjusted himself in the seat. "So, what about 'the look'?"

"Everyone I've ever interviewed or interrogated had a reason for looking that way," she said softly, watching as he continued to fidget in the seat, clearly uncomfortable. "What's yours?"

"You're quite direct, aren't you?" he stated more than asked, his brow furrowing as he went into thought. He sat still for a moment, considering his options. There was no way he was going to cut himself open to her, not after how she shut down last time they talked. He wasn't going to feel like that again. Besides, how would she ever look at him again? He wasn't ready to give that up. "It doesn't matter."

"Sure it does," she said, her voice raising. "You were so adamant about me answering your damn question, so why don't you answer mine?" She was beginning to feel a pressure in her chest. She felt like she might be overstepping, but she wanted to know. What could make someone who, by all accounts, made life exactly how they wanted into the person she saw today?

"You didn't really give me an answer, now, did you?" he replied, his own voice started to sound angry. She was beginning to push him, much like he did to her earlier in the week. A pang of regret washed over him quickly, realizing that he had probably made her feel like this when they last talked.

Chloe sat, motionless and speechless. She looked into Lucifer's dark, red-rimmed eyes and found an emptiness that she was not expecting. He almost looked like a completely different person. His eyes had no spark in them, his features were hardened and tired, and he had a permanent scowl on his lips replacing the smirk that was usually found there.

"No, I guess I didn't" she replied softly, her eyes falling towards her lap. Defeat. She was accepting defeat. It was well earned. He did have a point; she hadn't opened up to him, so why should she expect him to do the same?

"Exactly, so I'm not about to cut my heart out and lay it on the table," he sneered, his words coming out low and slower than usual. "I firmly believe in quid pro quo, Professor." He was holding his ground with that. There was no way he was going to allow himself to become that vulnerable with someone that refused to be vulnerable, as well. He couldn't afford more abandonment and rejection in this lifetime.

They sat in silence, more comfortable and less awkward than any long silence should be. Each trying to mend the wounds of lashing out without getting anywhere. After what seemed like an eternity, Chloe looked back up in his direction. Lucifer was leaned back in the chair, as far as he could be, one arm stretched forward for him to tap his fingertips against the wood of her desk. She admired the long lines of his frame for a minute, noticing the thickness of his wrists leading to large hands, exposed by the way his sleeves were shoved, more than rolled, up. She forced herself to look up when she felt his eyes on her.

"How did you get here this morning?" she asked in a normal tone, as if completely ignoring the heavy conversation held prior. She could see his expression fall, as if he was expecting her to say something with more depth.

"I drove," he answered, leaning forward to help push himself out of the chair. He was taking her question as his cue to leave her presence, as most people expected when he was no longer of need to them.

Chloe sighed loudly, reaching towards the ground for her bag before standing and walking over towards him. She stood in front of him, looking down at his confused expression as he as poised to get up. "Okay, come on, let's go," she said, signaling him towards the door. She stepped back to allow him room to stand up without being pressed up against him.

He stood, an even more confused expression on his face as he remained planted in front of the chair. He continued to stare at her as if she were speaking another language. Chloe waited for him to move, even a little, but she huffed when she realized he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"I used to be a cop, I'm not letting you drive like this," she said, gesturing towards his strung-out appearance. She watched as he looked down at himself again with a smirk, the regular Lucifer beginning to break through the shell of the man next to her.

"Oh, so you're going to take me home, then?" he asked teasingly as she rolled her eyes and walked around him, opening the door to her office and walking out. He laughed to himself as he quickly followed, turning the lock on the door before closing it. "Or if you're just trying to get me in the car, I can do a lot in there, too," he continued once he caught back up to her. She noticed his usual swagger was back in his steps, albeit a bit on the sloppy side.

"Yeah, you wish," she scoffed back, keeping her gaze forward. She hated that she found him charming with this attitude. He was ridiculously flirty and she hadn't been around anyone like that before in her life. He seemed so free when he was like this, and she only wished she knew what could deflate him so significantly for him to become that ball of fire she saw earlier. "Just, don't stand so close," she said, holding her hand out in his direction as if to push him away. "You smell like a fucking distillery."

She could see out of the corner of her eye that he had put his hands on his chest, an exaggerated wounded expression on his face before softening into amusement. "I feel like a fucking distillery, at the moment," he agreed with a short laugh. Chloe couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped her chest or the smile that crept on her lips. She could see that he noticed her reaction, and that seemed to please him. She couldn't deny how youthful he appeared when he had his wit and charm on full blast like this, and it was more endearing that she felt comfortable with accepting.

The journey to her car continued in comfortable silence and she laughed out loud as he tried to squeeze his tall frame into the passenger side before positioning the seat all the way back. Once he was finally seated and buckled, slightly out of breath, he noticed the amusement she was trying to hold back.

"Oh, was that funny?" he asked, turning his body in her direction. Chloe huffed out a muffled laugh as she pulled out of the spot and started to drive. "What freakishly tiny creature was up here last?" he asked, trying to adjust the bend in his knees.

"I think Ella, do you remember meeting her?" she asked, thinking about the last couple of days. They had met up recently for lunch, it was probably then. "Yeah, it was either me or Ella."

"Blood hell," he exclaimed under his breath, finally finding a somewhat comfortable spot. She watched as he suddenly began look for something on his person. He was frantically patting along his pants, lifting his hips to examine his back pockets. Chloe noticed the way his haphazardly tucked shirt pressed snuggly against the flat plane of his stomach as his hips lifted off of the seat, the way the material rippled over skin as he (somehow attractively) wiggled around until he found what he was looking for.

With a sigh of relief, he unscrewed the lid to the flask, just barely bringing the container up to his lips before Chloe pulled it out of his hand. With a small amount of reluctance, he let her take it, a few drips of amber liquid clinging to the bottom of his lower lip. "No, nope. Not cool," she stated, briefly looking at him before returning her eyes to the road. She fought the urge to swipe her thumb along his lip to wipe away the drops by holding out her right hand. With an annoyed grunt he placed the cap in her hand, slumping in his seat like a scolded child. "Not to sound like your mother or anything, but I don't think you need any more. Have you had anything solid recently?"

She could see his body instantly tense at her concern, his eyes squinting shut and his jaw clenching as he leaned his head against the window, a sad chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You don't. My mother wouldn't care enough to even notice," he said before realizing his slip. He shut his eyes even tighter, sighing and running a hand down his face. "And, to answer your question, I honestly can't remember."

Chloe looked over at him, trying to keep a sad expression off her face. The maternal side of her felt horrible for him in that moment. If her daughter had ever come home that undone, she would definitely notice, and she would definitely stop her from continuing to destroy herself. She couldn't imagine a mother that could ignore her child in such a bad state. "I didn't mean to-," she started but was interrupted by his hand slightly raising from his leg.

"I know. It's alright," he assured her softly, the slightest bit of a smile on the corner of his lip when he turned enough to look into her eyes. She nervously licked her lips and averted her gaze back to the road, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. When they reached the campus exit, Lucifer gave her his address and she was surprised to know where he lived. She and Dan had lived in that area when they first moved in together less than ten years ago.

"You should eat something," she suggested awkwardly, wanting to change the subject and tone of their conversation. "You know, when you get home."

"You want to come in and make me something?" he asked, his face going straight back to its typical smug, sexy look. He twisted his hips so his body was facing her, one long arm resting along the window of the door, the other rested on top of the seat, his forearm and hand out of her sight.

"You are persistent, I'll give you that," she said, narrowing her eyes and briefly turning her head to glare at him. "No, you're a big boy, you can make yourself something," she said mockingly.

"Ooh, I liked that," he groaned, a huge smile on his lips. "Call me that again, please, Professor," he teased, a small pout forming on his soft lips. Chloe knew he had to see the shiver than ran through her body. She stared at the road, completely embarrassed. If he wanted a reaction from her, he just got one, and she wondered how she would ever be able to look at him again. She was mad at herself for letting the way those words rolled off his accented tongue visibly affect her. She braved a quick glance at his direction and she found that he was smiling, nothing arrogant about it, but a smile as if he was a little pleased with himself. She scolded herself for finding that endearing, as well.

"Gross," she whispered, trying to her best to lighten the overwhelming tension surrounding them. That earned her a small chuckle from him as he leaned back in the seat.

He had been right, they reached his apartment complex in relatively short time for Southern California standards. The remaining minutes of the drive had been in edgy silence, each shifting in their seats occasionally to make some sort of ambient sound. She found a surprisingly empty spot near the entrance and she quickly paralleled into it, years of being a beat cop gave her plenty of experience with parallel parking.

"Now go eat something, and shower, you look like a homeless magician," she told him, pointing a finger at him the way she would when telling Trixie to do something that needed to be done.

"Yes, _mother,_" he jested, reaching for the handle on the door. He stopped almost immediately, shaking his head and inwardly scolded himself. He looked over at Chloe who had an equally disturbed expression on her face. "Yeah, I know, I'm ashamed of myself for that one," he admitted, shaking his head again and chuckling at himself.

"You should be," Chloe said, trying to keep the smile off of her face. It was ridiculous that he could be that charming and likeable, even looking as rough as he did in that moment. He took his hand away from the handle and leaned over the center of the car, closing in on her space until his face was just a few inches away from hers. She inhaled sharply, holding her breath but not moving away from him. She would be remiss to say there wasn't tension. Hell, she would be lying straight through her teeth if she said there wasn't tension. He had to feel it, too, or he wouldn't be this forward. Perhaps he would be, but she could tell by the way he would pause and study her reaction, waiting for the moment she either gave in or pushed him away.

"Thank you, Professor," he whispered, his eyes looking into her, pleading for her to do something, anything.

She could feel his breath against her lips and that forced them to part slightly. She finally exhaled before replying. "You're welcome, Lucifer," she said, her voice just above a whisper. He waited a few more seconds before backing away, reaching for the handle and getting out of her car. Chloe closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he closed the door and started walking towards the apartment building.

She wanted to stop him, to tell him that he could talk to her, if he ever needed to, but she didn't. A part of her realized that she probably shouldn't allow herself to get too close to him. She had told herself before that he was dangerous in the sense that she could easily give in to the charm and let him seduce her. She was afraid that they might get close, and something else would form between them. It would be wrong. _So wrong_. The other part of her wanted to comfort him. He was clearly hurting, but she had no idea how to do that without pushing the professional boundaries more than she already had. She took another steadying breath before pulling out of the spot just as he disappeared into the building.

She drove back to campus to return to her office, which still smelled heavily of alcohol and Lucifer, so she left the door open to air it out. It was distracting, not unpleasant. She answered the many emails she had and waited around, going over future lesson plans as well as revising a quiz she had scheduled for the next class. As she expected, no one needed her during office hours, so she packed up and left, locking her door behind her.

As Chloe drove home, she wondered if Lucifer had listened to her and had cleaned himself up, gotten something to eat that wasn't drenched in booze, and slept whatever else was left in his system off. Once home, she waited for Trixie to be dropped off by the bus. She pulled out the half-eaten chocolate cake and held up a fork. Her daughter smiled and started eating. Chloe took a few bites and wondered if Lucifer's mother had ever eaten chocolate cake with him when he was a kid.

* * *

**A/N:** So, I'm sure you noticed that I took the "homeless magician" line from the show. I just had to, I absolutely loved that bit! Anyways, how was the ride? Please, let me know what you think of this so far. I love reading reviews and comments. Suggestions, as well. I know, this is a REALLY slow burn, but I promise it will be worth it. Just trust me a little, okay? ;) Until next time, dark ones...

**PS: **As always, this is HIGHLY unedited. I do hope it wasn't horrible, but I just cannot, for the life of me, edit myself properly.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! It's almost here! Haha. I wanted to get this out before Wednesday night, and I just barely got it out. I'm sure that there will be a huge hiatus from writing and reading after tomorrow night, so this will be here for whenever everyone returns. haha. It's HIGHLY unedited, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Like I said, just wanted to get this out for you guys. To answer all the questions about Lucifer's past, this chapter is Lucifer-centric, and goes into some detail about his past. Happy watching!**

* * *

Like the good boy he could pretend to be, he did what the Professor told him to do. He went inside his apartment, grabbed a piece of three-day-old pizza from the fridge, a bottle of water, and sat on his bed. He scarfed down the slice, chewing the crust as he started to take off his shoes and socks. Every action felt like he had been running for miles. He gulped down half the bottle of water before attempting to disrobe himself further.

With shirt and pants off, he sat on his bed once again, trying to collect himself from the spinning room around him. He could faintly feel the vibrations coming from the floor, the buzz sound just barely audible through the fog of his mind. He pat around the ground until he found the brick in his pants' pocket, looking down at the screen for the message that was left and groaning. He knew Maze was pissed by the lack of correct capitalization and punctuation. She informed him that she had covered for him the previous night, but he absolutely had to show up for work that night.

Maze, the loyal friend who knew better than to ask what he had been up to. How he had managed to stay friends with her after they stopped sleeping together, he wasn't sure. They just clicked, knew each other better than any other person could. She didn't judge him for his habits, and he didn't judge her for her particular hobbies. They were, one could say, a team, albeit a fucked up one, but a team they were.

Peeling away his final layer, he turned the shower on, almost as hot as it would go, as per his post-bender ritual. He admitted that whenever those pesky feelings became just too much, he would completely obliterate himself for a few days. Wipe his mind's slate clean of all the parts of himself that felt something and deposit them into whoever he spent his time with. He had been the sad lay, the angry lay, the hateful lay, and the desperate lay for many people. Fucking his emotions into someone else was the only way to express them safely.

The hot water scalded away what remained of his lost days, revealing a new soul and skin to taint until he had to release it all blindly again. There wasn't much he regretted in life, but he always felt a tinge of disgust when he finally came down from his drunken high. From what he could remember, he had drank and taken anything he could, and he had _done_ anyone he could. To them he was just some random fuck from whatever bar or club they were at. To him, they were vessels he emptied his soul into. Everyone he had been with held a small fraction of what threw him down the rabbit hole. He appreciated them in taking his pain so willingly, however he needed to give it.

He looked down at himself, noticing the spattering of bite and suck marks all over him, in various stages of healing. Luckily, his sexual partners had all been clear-headed enough to leave them in places that were easily covered up. He had nearly been fired when he had shown up for work with his entire neck looking like it belonged to a damn Dalmatian. He laughed a little at the memory, shampooing his hair and lathering his body, washing days of sweat and bodily fluids away. He turned the water off, letting loose droplets fall down his tall frame before drying off with the towel.

He slung the towel lowly around his hips after roughly drying his hair. He walked back into his room, checking his phone and seeing a few more messages from Maze. Nothing of urgency, just asking him to come in a little early, to have a drink together before their shifts started. He tapped his agreeing reply before plugging the device in setting it on the nightstand. Slipping on a pair of boxier briefs, he tossed the towel to the side before hoping into bed. He needed a few hours of sleep before his class later that afternoon, then he would have to head straight to work. Lucifer laid in bed, feeling how easily sleep could come over him, but anxious about what would happen once he lulled out of consciousness. It always happened after his binges. It was unavoidable, but nonetheless traumatizing.

* * *

_He was back at home. The home he had before Los Angeles. The home where everything started and ended for him. It was like walking through the halls of his mind; eerie and familiar. He hadn't been back there is five years, hadn't seen any of his family in that long, either. The dark corridors or the large estate were fuzzy around the edges, reminding him he was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, but he could never wake up, not before he relived everything again. _

_ He had just returned from a job (if you could call it that) his father had given to him. A job he had done for a few years now, even at the ripe age of 22. It had not gone as planned, to say the least. He had tried to move freely under his father's realm, and it had caught up with him. He was tired of being goon, tired of being told where to go and when, who to hurt without an explanation as to why. He wasn't afforded whys; he was expected to do what he was told, like some goddamned puppet. Was wanting to make some decisions regarding his actions really too much to ask?_

_ It all started with Eve, his long-term job. Eve was a drug mule and call girl for his father. She brought drugs to all of his high-end clients, and was instructed to give them her body if they wanted. They always wanted. It was Lucifer's job to ensure she arrived to her destination, had the proper amount of product, and was returned to her home in good shape. He was also there to teach the clients a lesson if they felt the need to get a little too rough with her. _

_ One night, he found one of the clients strangling her. He ripped the fat, sweaty man off of her, breaking every one of his fingers before smashing his hands with his heel. He carried her out of the house and laid her down in the back seat of the car, stroking hair behind her ear and wiping away her tears. Once back at her place, she brought him inside and took him to bed, because that's all she knew how to do. When he came inside her that night, he promised her that his father's clients would never touch her again. Perhaps he had been too naïve to promise anything like that, but they were both young and already down a horrible path. _

_ He remembered the weeks after that night with her. Eve was still delivering drugs, was still the pretty thing clients paid and harassed, but Lucifer was by her side the entire time. As soon as a man tried to touch her, he was given a firm warning of a wrist lock. They were all told she was no longer their entertainment. It had been a wonderful few weeks, doing their jobs and then fucking in the car outside of her house. It was the happiest he had been, and all of that came crashing down once his father found out about his decision. That wasn't all that was realized, however. Lucifer had a lot of wrongs to pay for. _

_ Turns out Eve had been slipping product under Lucifer's lenient watch. She had played him, even after he had risked his father's punishment to keep her safe. On the night that everything went down between him and his family, he had learned, first hand, what it felt like to be completely betrayed and rejected by your family and everyone you cared about. _

_ It had been a normal day. He had harassed a few people that pissed off his father and he had snorted enough coke to please three wonderful ladies he found waiting for his father for hours. He had gone out for a pack of smokes that night. He could still remember the chill in the air as he walked through the doors to a dark house. He should have known something was going to happen, but he was too blissed out to care. After the reminiscing, this was the part of his dream he always started with and came back to. The part where his older brother swung a tire iron into his ribs as he reached for his bedroom door. He didn't even see him in the shadows. _

_ The pain was immediate and intense, forcing him to clutch his side as he collapsed to the ground. He coughed a few times, turning his head up to see Michael standing to the side of him, a scared expression on his face. "What the fuck?!" Lucifer choked out, shuffling to his knees, his hands splayed out on the ground in front of him, holding him up. _

_ "You know what this is about," the older man sneered, pacing in front of him. He watched Lucifer push himself up onto his feet, hands on his knees, his head tilting up to look at him. _

_ "Not a bloody clue," Lucifer retorted, leaning into his side, breathing heavily. "So tell me, what have I done?" He grunted as he tried to straighten himself, but fell back to his bent over position._

"_We don't fuck the help, Lucifer!" Michael spat, punching him square in the mouth. He pulled back, shaking his hand, his knuckles bleeding from making contact with teeth. Lucifer fell back to a kneeling position, his forearms bracing his upper body on the ground. _

"_Oh, come now, Brother. I was the only man she wanted to fuck," he laughed, wincing into his undoubtedly broken ribs, spitting blood onto the floor next to him. "You may be able to leave a woman wanting, but I can't." He tongued at the cut in the corner of his lower lip, taking in the damage. He could feel himself wheezing with every breath, but he refused to let his brother know he was hurt. _

"_This isn't a joke," Michael started, his voice sounding pained, but angry. "That's not even the worst of it, Brother." He held on to the tire iron, gripping it tightly, his hands shaking. Lucifer could see him fighting in his head and a cold comprehension washed over him. He knew what his brother was told to do. _

"_What else did I do, Michael? Hm?" Lucifer asked, his voice rising as much as it could. He felt a weight in his chest, a constriction on the side he was hit, as if that lung was not inflating. He watched his brother start to pace, looking at him on the ground occasionally. "What else have I fucking done besides give myself over to our tyrant of a father?" He tried yelling but the inability to fully expand his chest kept his voice much quieter than he had hoped. He started to move to stand, stumbling a little, letting a wheeze escape his lips as he rolled his shoulders up. They were the same size, neither man able to look down at the other. They just had to stare straight into each other's eyes, unable to look away and submit_

"_You let that bitch play you, Lucifer," he replied, bringing the iron up and swinging down onto the top of Lucifer's shoulder. The force of the blow knocked him flat to the ground. A shock wave rolled through his body, his mind taking a second to register the pain before it erupted. Lucifer groaned, his hands forming fists next to his head as he tried to get back up. "She stole product right out from under your nose. You were too busy fucking her and playing her hero to notice." _

"_What?" Lucifer breathed out, coughing again as he shakily got back up to his knees. He didn't even try to get up further, knowing it would lead to failure. The wheezing was unavoidable at this point, so he allowed himself to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible, even though one was rendered almost useless. His brother's words bore into his brain, conflicting with everything he thought he knew about his relationship with Eve. _

"_Yeah, she manipulated you, and then she sold you out so that she could walk away freely," he finished, looking his younger brother directly in the eyes. The light from the moon illuminated the hallway, shining into dark eyes as they glared at each other. "She told us you knew about her stashing away product and that you planned to start undermining Father." _

"_I didn't know about that," Lucifer whispered to himself, his eyes shining with emotional revelation. It had all been fake, a lie. Eve had used his naiveté to get away from this life. In all honestly, he really couldn't blame her, but it was the deceit and the betrayal that stung. "I just thought-" he started, unable to finish his sentence before Michael moved to stand in front of him. _

_The older brother reached forward and grabbed a fitful of Lucifer's hair, bending down to be eye level with him on his knees. "Looks like the pretty boy thought with his cock and not his head," he sneered, pushing him back, making him fall from his kneeling position to lay propped on his side. He was being backed towards the large glass doors leading to the balcony where the night sky, glittering with stars, could easily be seen. _

_Michael swung and broke the glass behind Lucifer's back, the deafening sound was drowned out by the atmosphere of the outdoors. Lucifer could feel the sprinkling of glass everywhere and barely had time to comprehend the situation before Michael was dragging him by the collar. He could feel the glass digging and ripping into the skin of his back as he cried out, trying to break free from his hold. _

"_Why couldn't you just do what you were told?" Michael asked in a scream, yanking Lucifer from the ground by the front of his tattered shirt. The younger brother groaned in pain, but managed to stand on his own feet, holding on to his brother's shoulders. _

"_I'm tired of being a mindless tool," Lucifer admitted, the wheezing making it harder and harder for him to breathe. "Just continue to be the loyal son, Michael, and do what you have to," he instructed, nodding his head in understanding. It wasn't his brother's fault. Obedience had been ingrained in them from the start of their lives. The notion of ever going against their Father was unheard of. He couldn't blame him for doing what they all had always been forced to do. Obey. Lucifer squeezed Michael's shoulders, accepting defeat and taking the punishment he had been dealt. _

"_You brought this on yourself, little Brother," Michael whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he pushed Lucifer over the rail of the balcony with a roar. Lucifer screamed, he could feel himself scream not in his dream, but in his slowly waking self._

* * *

He startled awake, panting and gasping for air, his entire body covered in a light sheen on sweat. He always woke up before he hit the ground, the sensation of falling stirring him from the nightmare he constantly relived. He wore the scars from that day in his mind and on his back, going mostly unnoticed by his lovers due to their inebriated states. The few that did notice either forgot about them when he refused to answer their questions or pretended to ignore them. They were a bittersweet reminding for him of the family he lost, but the freedom he gained.

He checked his watch, he still had a couple hours before his class started, but he had to find a way back to campus since he didn't have his car. _Thank you, Professor_. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he rubbed his side where he could feel the jagged way his ribs had healed. He took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat to a normal rhythm before standing, stretching his long limbs and combing his fingers through his hair.

Lucifer got dressed quickly, finding a pair of slacks and a white button-down. He slid a belt through the loops before sliding into his shoes, and there he was. Well, mostly. He needed some caffeine and whiskey and he would be his normal self. While he waited for the coffee to brew, he grabbed his phone and called Maze. He could have knocked on her door, since she was just down the hall, but he knew she would be sleeping and wouldn't answer the door.

After grumbling for a minute straight, she agreed to drive him to campus, telling him he owed her a _huge_ tip at work. When she knocked on his door ten minutes later, he handed her a to-go cup of spiked coffee while sipping on his own, walking out the door leaving her to close it. She took a long sip before following him out of the building, savoring his heavy pour of whiskey.

"So where's your car?" Maze asked, pulling out of her spot expertly with one hand, the other still holding on to her coffee. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, but he could tell she was squinting from the L.A. sun and from sleep. She really was a great friend, even if she pretended not to be.

"On campus. I was, apparently, too fucked up to drive myself back home," Lucifer replied, adjusting his own sunglasses as he leaned into the passenger side window.

"You were that bad, huh?" she asked, chuckling, her voice still thick with sleep. She would occasionally glance over to look at him. Although put together, she could still see the red around his eyes, now a more dark pink, signaling his slow recovery from another ritualistic binge.

"No," he snorted, sliding down in the seat to get more comfortable. "I drove myself there, it's just my professor-".

"The one you've been talking about? The sexy cop one?" Maze asked, interrupting him. She looked over at him, her mouth slightly open in a grin. She waited for him to continue, but when he just played with the cuff of his shirt, avoiding her gaze, she knew the answer. "Did she take you home?"

"I might have shown up to her class a little…. disheveled," he defended, still averting his gaze away from her, knowing she was grinning ear to ear eagerly. "Might have made a bit of a scene, so she kicked me out and sent me to her office," he added, braving to look over at his friend.

"Oh, that's so hot," Maze sighed, turning her hand in a circle through the air, urging him to continue. "Please tell me she spanked you, too," she gasped

"Unfortunately not," he said with a sigh. "She seems intent on following the rules, former cop and all." His disappointment was obvious, and Maze had never seen him so bent out of shape about someone. Usually, he would get what he wanted, and if, rarely, he couldn't, he would move on to the next willing subject.

"Oh, no," she inhaled sharply, feigning fear. "Has someone lost their mojo?" she finished with a snicker, earning her a light shove from Lucifer.

"Definitely not!" he exclaimed, straightening the collar of his shirt. "I'll figure something out," he added, more to himself than to Maze. He could see the entrance of the campus approaching, so he downed the rest of the coffee. Maze finished her cup as well, tossing both containers into the backseat of the car.

"Wow, she's really getting to you, huh?" Maze asked softly, noticing the way Lucifer sat quiet and slumped, looking out of the window but not seeing anything.

"I don't know," he responded honestly, running his hand down his face. "I haven't been sleeping well, is all." He adjusted the seat belt across his chest, smoothing down wrinkles in his shirt, a motion he always did when he started to feel uncomfortable.

Maze narrowed her eyes, taking in his appearance. He looked great, but the tired, pink-rimmed eyes gave away his mental strain under the polished shell. "Have that dream again?" she asked, pulling up to his car in the car park.

Lucifer looked around a little confused. He hadn't even realized she had driven through the campus entrance, let alone to where he parked his car that morning. "Yeah, but I'm fine," he assured her, closing his eyes and resting his left hand on her knee. '

Maze turned in the seat to face him, looking at his hand on her leg, contemplating covering his with her hand, but she decided against it. "Okay," she said, biting her lip before nudging at his arm. "Okay smarty-pants, go to class, I want to get a bit more sleep before work."

He chuckled, squeezing her knee before reaching for the handle. "Hey, you're going to be thanking me one day when we open our own place," he said, raising a finger in her direction. "No more working for other people, we'll finally get to do what we want." Before opening the door, he leaned over and gave her a quick peck to the forehead. "Thanks, love. I'll see you later."

Maze always had to hide her blush when he did that. She was fine with just being his friend, but every time he got close, she would be reminded of the last time she felt his body move over hers. "Remember, you owe me!" she shouted as he walked to his car. He held up a hand in response and watched her drive off. He was looking for something specific, something he couldn't find at his apartment when he woke up. There was no way he was going to a bland management strategies class without his flask.

He searched everywhere: in the glove box, under the seats, in the console, and he couldn't find it anywhere. He had it with him this morning… and then it dawned on him. The Professor had taken it from him when she was driving him home and never gave it back. He groaned, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he remembered the stern look she gave him, the faintest grin on those pink lips. At least he knew he would get it back, and, as a bonus, he would get to see her before class the next week.

With a long sigh, he accepted his predicament and starting walking towards the business building. He loved the way the afternoon sun shone through the architecture of the school, although he missed the old buildings and streets of his home country, he appreciated the youth of America. As he walked, he received the occasional glance from passing students and faculty alike, never missing a step. He would give a small smile to ones he found interesting, but never stopped to talk.

Looking up into the crowd as he approached the building, someone caught his eye. A tall, slender woman, wearing a jet-black dress and patent leather heals was strutting in the opposite direction. Without thinking, he looked at her quizzically, recognizing her vaguely. It wasn't until her eyes met his that he remembered exactly where he knew her from. The lady in red. She never faltered in her steps, but a sly smile shone up to her eyes as she made a b-line for him.

"Hello," she greeted, eyeing him from head to toe as if recalling their evening together. She licked her lips before looking back into his eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"Hello, to you, too," he said, brows furrowing as he took in the scene. He had never run into a one-night-stand before, especially when it happened only a few days prior. "Do you work here?" he asked, pointing towards the business building behind them.

"Yes, but not there," she said, tipping her head in the direction of the building. She eyed him again, the cogs in her brain on overdrive. "Come with me," she ordered, turning to walk in the direction Lucifer had been going. He hesitated for a moment, but decided to follow her out of pure intrigue. The commanding nature of this woman was fascinating, and he really wanted an excuse to not go to his class. He followed a few steps behind her as they walked past a few more buildings. He started to recognize their direction and his mouth fell open in surprise.

"You work in the criminal justice department?" he asked incredulously, laughing at the weird twist of fate.

"No, I _run_ the criminal justice department," she corrected, walking into the building and immediately going up the flight of stairs in the atrium. He continued to follow her through the hall until she stopped at two large wooden doors. He looked beside the door and saw the placard with her name on it: _Charlotte Richards, J.S.D._ At least now he knew her name. As she opened the doors, he noticed that she didn't have a ring on her finger. He hadn't seen one the other night, but wasn't sure if she had just taken one off or not.

Lucifer watched her walk in and perch onto the edge of her desk, her long legs crossing at the knees. He watched her as she slowly adjusted her position, smoothing down her dress as she waited for him to close the doors. He walked over to one of the chairs in front of her desk, the one closest to her. He sat down slowly, watching the way she observed his every move. He sat silently for a moment, his thoughts running ahead of him. As soon as she had said she ran the department, he immediately thought of the Professor, and what knowing someone like Charlotte Richards could do for him.

"So you know my name now," Charlotte started, tilting her head down and raising an eyebrow. "What do you do here?" she asked, waving her hand, gesturing for him to continue.

"Lucifer Morningstar," he said, expression flat. "I'm working on my M.B.A., but I take a course in this building," he added, hoping that would stir some interest in her.

She scrunched her nose, shifting a little on the edge of the desk. "Why do you take a criminal justice class as a business grad student?" Her tone was serious and authoritative, the lawyer in her spilling out.

"I needed an elective, there was an open freshman level course here, so I took it," he answered with a shrug. He lowered down in the seat so that his thigh brushed against her calf. "I wanted something easy."

"I see," she said, looking down at his leg with a heated glare. "Who do you take it with?" She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her breasts together, giving him a delicious view of her cleavage. He knew what she was doing. She was the type of woman that didn't play games. She made it very clear what she was wanting.

"Professor Decker," he quickly responded, watching as she uncrossed her legs, running a heeled foot up his thigh. He smirked at her when her foot landed close to his hip, just an inch away from where he wanted it. He let her toy with him, but he was coming up with a way to get himself closer to the Professor, in a way that she would have to be okay with. He had never been happier about finding a previous hook-up as he was in that moment.

"How is Professor Decker doing?" Charlotte questioned, pressing the pointed heel of her shoe into his inner thigh. She could hear a low groan and that sent an invisible shiver down her body. She was curious about the new instructor as she had not received any feedback on her.

"She's a fine teacher," Lucifer quipped, wrapping his hand around her ankle in his lap. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, massaging Charlotte's ankle and slightly grinding up into her foot.

She let out a short chuckle and sigh at his touch, raising her eyebrow at him. "Let me guess, you've slept with her, too." There was not judgment in her tone; she was just simply making a statement. Even after one night, she knew there was a pull to him, and she couldn't blame the other woman for hopping, so to speak, after seeing him in her class.

"I haven't, actually," he replied, running his hand up her leg to grasp behind her knee. He massaged the sensitive skin there, watching as the woman shamelessly indulged in his caress. "Not from lack of trying, though."

Charlotte laughed at that, leaning back on her hands propped up behind her. "Yeah, she did seem very by-the-books," she added, pulling her leg out of his lap, urging him to follow it. Lucifer stood slowly, finding a comfortable spot between her legs, but keeping their bodies at a distance.

"I just need some more time with her," he defended, his hands finding a resting place on her thighs. "And with her following the rules, I don't get much time." He leaned forward, letting his lips ghost along the skin of her jaw before dropping to her neck. "Maybe there's a way for you to help me with that." He let his tongue glide over her skin; he could practically taste the primal desire there.

Charlotte reached up and grabbed around his biceps, toying with the material of his shirt. "How could I help with that?" she asked, leaning her head back to give him better access.

"I don't know, find a way for me to work with her, or something," he suggested, kissing along the side of her throat. He felt the smallest of shudders as his lips ran over her pulse, but Charlotte wouldn't let him win that easily.

"Well, she doesn't have a TA," she thought aloud, letting the words trail off into the air. She felt him grin against her throat, nipping skin before standing back up to look her in the eyes.

"Perfect, I can be her TA," he volunteered, reaching down and grabbing the hem of her dress. Charlotte grabbed both of his wrists, stopping his movements, bringing her face close to his.

"Her TA can't be _in_ her class," she told him, releasing his wrists and letting him pull her dress up. Her tanned skin look perfect with the black of her dress and underwear, the lace scalloping along her bikini line.

He brought one hand to her mound, covering her flesh before moving his fingers along her folds, focusing on her clit. "Oh, I'm sure you can figure something out," he whispered into her lips, kissing her quickly as he wrapped one of her legs around his hip. She propped her other leg on the chair behind him, rolling her hips into his touch.

"So what do I get out of this?" she moaned, gasping as he pulled her underwear over more to touch his fingers to her heated skin.

"What do you want?" he asked, pressing a long finger inside of her. Her body melted into his hand and he was satisfied in knowing he was getting close to getting what he wanted.

"You," she answered, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She never looked desperate or needy, just hungry, a woman getting what she needed. "Once a week. You see me one night a week, and I'll make you her TA." She closed her eyes for a moment, frustration evident on the lack of friction she was getting.

He obliged, sliding in a second finger and beginning and moderately fast pace. "Deal," he agreed, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. He swallowed her moan and felt her hands move to unbutton his shirt. He bent his face down, inhaling her expensive perfume as he licked and bit along the curve of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Charlotte abandoned her work on his shirt and fell back on her desk, giving Lucifer the opportunity to lift her legs up and place them over his shoulders.

He knelt down, pulling her underwear out of the way before running his tongue through her drenched folds. Her fingers dug into her hair and he worked her with his mouth. He continued to lick and suck at her flesh while thinking about this new arrangement. He hoped the added time with the Professor would help him win her over. He would get to spend time with her in a way that fit into her rule-following attitude. So many possibilities were available to him, and he found himself giddy about it. He didn't consider the cons of his deal with Charlotte Richards, but at that moment, he didn't care. He was going to get what he wanted, he knew it, and he had plenty of time before work to seal the deal.

* * *

**A/N: Okay... so what did we think? Did that answer a few questions about him? I hope so. If not, I'm sure you'll have some more questions for me. What do we think about this little arrangement? Do you think it'll work or end up fucking everything up? Guess we'll see... Until next time, dark ones.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry, dear readers. I'm sure that most, if not all, have finished season 4. No spoilers here, no worries. Just wanting to give a heads up for why this chapter is the way it is. Let's just say, yours truly has a thing for the aggressive side of Lucifer. From episode one, my hormones and lady bits have been an absolute mess. The Devil's nectar might also play a role in this, but, let's be honest, how could we not be so fucking wound up from that?! Hm? Tell me…. Please. **

**Oh, also, for all my European friends, a fifth of liquor (standard bottle) is 750 mls. You're welcome ;)**

* * *

Fridays were always days where Chloe decided if she was going to go into work that day or not. Unless she had a meeting, there wasn't much of a need for it, aside from having a space to work on her lesson plans and such without the distractions of home. She was going to stay home, enjoy a long weekend to herself before the typical meeting Monday morning. Her plans were derailed by a late-night email from the chairman (or to be PC about it, chairwoman) of her department, asking for a meeting regarding her class. She had to go to work that morning; hopefully that left the rest of her Friday and weekend completely free.

Chloe was sure that the Chair had found out about the almost-fight the day before and was going to reprimand her on her lack of control of the class. As a new faculty member, Chloe had unreasonable expectations for what should and shouldn't happen, and she knew that rowdy students meant a weak instructor. She had responded that same night, asking where the meeting was being held. The Chair responded immediately by stating it would be held in her office, since it was bigger. Chloe laughed at that. The chairwoman's office was _much_ bigger than her own.

Bigger was not better, in this sense. More space meant more people. She was sure of it. She tried not to panic, but she really couldn't lose this job. If she didn't do this, and couldn't go back to being a cop, she had no idea what else she could do. Trixie would never forgive her if she went back to working for the LAPD. Sighing, she adjusted her sleek ponytail, straightening the black blazer she paired with medium-wash denim and a white shirt. Sensible, she was going for sensible, responsible, and professional.

She was off in her own world, the drive to campus and the half-mile trek from the parking garage to the Criminal Justice building were a blur. She had convinced herself that there was no way she would be fired over what had happened. No one got hurt, she had handled it. Yes, a student showed up _completely_ fucked up, made a huge scene, pissed someone off, but that's it. Standing in front of Ms. Richard's office brought up feelings of doubt so quickly that she was glad she had skipped breakfast.

She knocked on the door, and upon hearing the muffled response to come in, she opened the doors and walked right it. She was shocked to see that Charlotte Richards was the only person in the room. She hid the instant relief she felt, wanting to appear as aloof to the meeting as she could.

"Good morning, Ms. Decker, thank you for coming without much notice," Charlotte greeted, standing up from her seat and leaning over the desk to shake Chloe's hand.

"Yes, of course," Chloe responded, accepting the curt shake before returning her hands to her sides. "Is there something I could help you with?" she asked, hoping to gauge the woman's reaction.

Charlotte smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, she motioned for Chloe to sit in the one of the chairs in front of her desk, without saying a word. Chloe nodded and took a seat, waiting for her scolding. "Actually, this is about helping you," the taller woman insinuated, sitting into her plush leather chair, leaning back comfortably.

"Helping me?" Chloe asked, leaning forward in the chair as if getting closer would help her understand the statement.

"Yes, we're just waiting for one more person," Charlotte said, looking at her watch before tapping her pen on her desk. Chloe sat back in the chair once more, her hands pressed together between her thighs to warm them, anxiety setting in and pulling blood from her extremities. She took a calming breath, hardly hearing the office doors opening and closing again.

She opened her eyes carefully as she felt a presence sit in the chair next to her. As her lids revealed the long body sitting casually in the chair, her mouth parted in surprise. She made sure to close her mouth again before turning her attention to Charlotte.

"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Morningstar," Charlotte said plainly, motioning towards the new arrival in the room.

"Of course," he replied, smiling at her before turning in his seat towards Chloe. "Good morning, Professor," he greeted, an innocent grin spreading over his lips. He could see shock of his presence behind her calm features, and he knew he shouldn't feel as good about that as he did.

"Good morning, Lucifer," she greeted back, her right leg starting to bounce ever so slightly. She watched as his gaze went to her leg, his eyebrow barely raising before turning his eyes towards his hands resting on his knees. Chloe forced her leg to calm down, to hide the rush of unease coursing through her body. She had absolutely no idea why he would be here, why the Chair would need to meet with both of them. Unless someone had seen him get in her car; that would be cause for a meeting.

Chloe inwardly cursed herself for being so reckless, but she put on a carefree face as she looked calmly at Charlotte. "Mr. Morningstar, I'm aware that you are just coming in from work, so I'll try to make this quick," Charlotte started, folding her hands over her crossed legs. "As per my email, I asked if you felt you had the ability to add on an additional responsibility to your schedule."

"Yes, I recall," Lucifer said, nodding his head and glancing at Chloe quickly. He was doing his best to hide his eagerness. He was truly curious about her reaction to this. He wondered if she would be angry, or if she would be accepting of this partnership.

"Ms. Decker," she said, getting the other woman's attention before continuing. "As I said moments ago, this meeting is about helping you." She finished, watching as Chloe nodded her head, sitting silently. "So, to help you, I've assigned Mr. Morningstar as your TA for the semester."

"I'm sorry, what?" Chloe blurted out before thinking. Upon seeing Charlotte's taken-aback expression, she cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "It's just, I didn't know I needed a TA," she stated, stretching her hands before replacing them between her thighs. This time, she could see Lucifer observing her. He really was completely shameless about staring.

"Well, you are a first-year instructor," Charlotte cited, gesturing as she spoke with one of her hands. "It couldn't hurt to have an extra hand or two to help with more menial tasks." She gave Lucifer a short smile before looking back towards Chloe for a response.

"I thought TAs weren't actually _in_ your class," Chloe stated, clearing her throat before swallowing down her confusion. "You know, as a student."

"Well, all of the other TAs for the department have been assigned, and Mr. Morningstar here is the only graduate level student in your class," she retorted, pointing towards Lucifer without looking at him. "Although it is not typical, the department and I have found it to be acceptable, as long as Mr. Morningstar does not help grade any of his own work." Charlotte could see the figurative cogs working in Chloe's mind, trying to piece together the prospect of a not-so-usual arrangement. "Ms. Decker, I'm sure you'll find this to be a mutually beneficial partnership."

Chloe could see Lucifer shift in his seat to face her more, a small smirk on his lips as he watched her, waiting for her to say something. "How so? This seems like more work for him." Chloe questioned, keeping her gaze forward and off of the man next to her.

"It will look good on my résumé," Lucifer quipped in an annoyingly pleased manner. "And as Ms. Richards said, you'll have an extra hand or two to assist you in whatever you might need." He tilted his head to the side a little, a pointed expression on his face, but his eyes shone with something else. Hope.

All Chloe could do was sit in the chair, completely dumbfounded. She had not been expecting this when she came in this morning. "Sure, okay," she said, speaking mostly to herself and nodding her head. She wondered why all of the weird shit always happened to her. She also wondered how she was going to make it through class planning sessions with a ridiculously infuriating, but charming, assistant. Especially one that had the ability to crawl under her skin with dangerous fascination.

"Excellent," Charlotte exclaimed, standing from her overly-comfortable office chair. "I appreciate you two coming in. I'm sure this will a rewarding arrangement," she finished, holding her hand out to Chloe to shake. Chloe accepted her hand, giving a firm shake before walking towards the office doors. Lucifer quickly took a few steps to open the doors for her, smiling down at her as she quickly ducked under his arm.

"Mr. Morningstar, a moment?" Charlotte asked, raising her eyebrow as Chloe walked out of the open doors. She watched Lucifer give the other woman a small smile before walking back towards the desk, leaving the door ajar.

"Yes, Ms. Richards," he addressed, hands going in his pockets, his face more serious than it was moments ago.

"I hope you remember my end of the bargain," she told him, bringing a hand up to play with the top button of his shirt. "That you keep your end, as well," she warned him, tugging on the fabric and jarring him a little before smoothing the wrinkles she made.

"My word is my bond," he replied with a slight bow, turning away from her and closing the doors behind him. Charlotte smiled to herself, the rush from bending the rules here was almost as good as it had been in her law firm. Sometimes she missed it, but she hoped her weekly randevu with a young stud could give her enough excitement to keep her on a slightly straighter path.

After closing the doors, Lucifer caught sight of Chloe standing by the stairs, running a hand over the top of her head, looking positively flustered. If he had been any other person, he might have blushed, but this was the desirable effect. Even if she didn't immediately want to jump him, at least he seemed to make her nervous. He could work with that.

He could see the uncertainty on her features, even while she tried to hide it behind a grin. She barely acknowledged his reappearance by her side as she descended down the stairs towards the atrium. They were silent on their way down, taking each step at a languid pace in order to digest the information. She was already have a difficult time keeping things completely professional between them; having to spend even more time with him would make it harder, especially since he seemed to hurdle over boundaries like a damn Olympic athlete.

"So, you work nights?" Chloe's question broke the silence as he opened the building's door for her, letting her walk out before following behind her.

"Yeah, three to four times a week," he replied, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt to start rolling the sleeves up his forearms as soon as the southern California sun hit his skin.

"What do you do?" Chloe asked, her strides were short and fast to match his long, slow ones. It was the annoying bit about walking next to tall me, you always had to try to look like you weren't running to keep up.

"I perform at this insanely pretentious club," he replied, a little bit of contempt in his tone.

"Oh," Chloe said shortly, her gaze going straight to the ground, pressing her lips together tightly. She tried to get the picture of him _performing _out of her head. He gave her a confused glance, seeing that her eyes were a little wide and her head tilted to the side slightly.

"I'm not a stripper," he teased, smirking at her sigh of relief from the awkwardness she apparently felt. He didn't try to stop the chuckle that escaped his chest, shaking his head at her when she gave him an embarrassed smile. "Musical performer."

"Oh, okay," she said with a huff, rolling her eyes at herself. "What do you play?"

"Piano, guitar, I'll sing, from time to time" he answered, tucking his hands into his pockets. "If I'm feeling frisky, a little of all three," he added, leaning in her direction.

"Quite the showman, huh?" she joked, the words out of her mouth before she remembered who she was talking to. She closed her eyes and sighed, waiting for whatever racy response he had for her.

"Oh, you have no idea," he teased, his elbow barely brushing against her upper arm. "I'm definitely more than a one-trick pony," he finished, laughing as her eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, but I've been dying to say that, and you set it up perfectly for me."

"Yep, guess I walked right into that one," she replied sarcastically, playing with her hands in front of her. She stopped at her familiar office door, catching Lucifer by surprise as he almost walked right past her.

Lucifer hadn't even realized that was the direction they were going. It only took a few minutes to get to that wing from the main department building. He put his hands in his pockets, slightly disappointed that their productive stroll was, clearly, finished. "So, since you've had no time to prepare for this, I doubt you have anything for me to help with."

"No, I don't," she agreed with a smile, taking in his suddenly uncomfortable appearance. "I'm about to go through my stuff and see what I can give you, so why don't you go home, get some sleep, and we can meet up later?" she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. "That is, if you don't have class or work later." She watched as his eyes lit up briefly before returning to their normal dark state.

"Nope, I am all yours tonight," he joked, giving her his best smile before placing his hands on his hips. "So, yours or mine?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to respond.

Chloe furrowed her brows in confusion before his question finally hit her. "Neither, Lucifer. We're not meeting at each other's homes. We'll meet here," she finished pointing to her office.

Lucifer smiled and nodded, holding his hands up in defeat. "As you wish. What time shall we cram ourselves into your tiny office then?" He jutted his chin out slightly, knowing exactly what he had just done. He could see her mind realizing that her office would put them in close proximity, very private, close proximity. He was fine with that.

Chloe pressed her lips together, the thought of her office being small had completely left her when she made the suggestion, but she was _not_ going to his apartment, and he was _definitely not_ coming to her house. Nope. Not when her neighbors would be wondering when she became a cougar with a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. "I'm not sure yet," she winced out, scrunching up her face and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe I can just email you or something later, I don't know, I don't have your number so," she started trailing off when she looked up at him smiling in amusement.

Without saying a word, Lucifer fished a pen out of his pocket, popping the cap off between his teeth, he held the small piece of plastic there as he grabbed her wrist, gently pushing the sleeve of her blazer up a few inches, the pen balancing between his pointer and middle fingers. He looked in her eyes, seeing surprise and interest swimming in them before averting his gaze towards the delicate joint in his hand. His thumb brushed over her pulse as he brought the tip of the pen down to the inside of her forearm, neatly scribbling a number. He swallowed down the sigh that wanted to escape at the feel of her warm skin under his fingers. He could smell the dissipating scent of her perfume from her wrist; warm vanilla, crisp pear, and wild rose.

"There," he said, gently releasing her wrist and pulling the cap out from between his teeth before returning the pen to his pocket. He tried to discreetly adjust himself after getting half-hard from the feel of her skin and the scent of her perfume. "Now you have my number, on a safe place. I couldn't begin to count the times I've lost a number written on my palm."

"Ah, I see," Chloe said, scrunching her nose, slightly perturbed with herself for finding that as charming as she did. She was glad that no one was walking around outside, but she was sure he wouldn't have done anything that bold with an audience. Well, _maybe_ he wouldn't have done that with an audience. "Okay, so I guess I'll text you later on a time." Her eyes were wide as she reached up and placed a hand on the door to her office.

Lucifer took the hint, dipping his head just slightly before taking a single step backwards. "Sounds great," he said, smiling and turning to walk back towards the parking garage Maze dropped him off in earlier. "Have fun gathering a bunch of work for me," he joked, taking slow, languid steps.

"I promise it won't be too much," Chloe called out to him, getting her keys out of her bag to unlock her office. She didn't notice him turn his head in her direction as she turned the key in the lock.

"No worries, Professor. I'll take whatever load you give me," he yelled out over his shoulder. There were a few passersby who gave him a weird look, but he paid them no mind. He didn't look back to see her, but he knew she would have looked completely horrified by his response. He continued the decently long walk back to his car, groaning to himself when he realized he had forgotten to ask about his flask. He could get it later.

Chloe was, in fact, horrified. She gave the faculty members who conveniently walked by as Lucifer yelled back to her a huge smile, laughing it off. They two people gave her a confused and bothered look before talking amongst themselves again. Chloe rolled her eyes at their pompousness once their backs were towards her before throwing herself into her office. She was going to kill him. She laughed lightly, wanting to kill his just as much as she wanted to play along with the flirting and shove him in the arm. Sighing, she shook her head, getting frustrated that she actually _did_ want to play along.

She walked around her desk and sat down, pulling out her lap top from her bag opening it. Looking at the course schedule, syllabus, and lesson plans for anything that she could possibly give Lucifer to do. In all actuality, she really didn't need the help, however, if this was actually beneficial for him, as he said it was, then she wouldn't tell Charlotte Richards she didn't need him. If she were completely honest with herself, she wasn't disappointed with getting more time with him. He genuinely made her smile, and very few people were able to do that. There was that connection she felt the night he defended her. She still remembered the way she clutched to his hands, pressing them harder into her face, seeking out the warmth and security he was emanating.

Maybe that's what she was looking for. Maybe she just wanted to be around him because he made her feel safe. It wouldn't be that surprising, and it would make total sense. No one knew about all the details from her attack many months ago, the one that hospitalized her for a while. The weight of carrying around a secret like that had crumbled her, and she knew that Lucifer was carrying a weight of his own. Perhaps it was just kindred spirits seeking comfort without even knowing it.

Chloe shook herself from her thoughts, not wanting to go even deeper than she had. Going through the course information, she figured the class was ready for a quiz, or some method of testing their knowledge. She wasn't a huge fan of paper tests, not when it came to investigation. However, they would need to learn how handle all of the paperwork if any of them actually went into law enforcement. Lucifer could, probably, provide some feedback on what would be a good way of testing the class. He was, probably, the smartest one in the class, and not just because he was older. He seemed to have an intelligence and experience of someone far surpassing him in years. An old soul.

She felt herself bite her lip subconsciously and she instantly released the flesh from her teeth. Taking a calming breath, she lifted her hip and grabbed her phone from her back pocket. She opened up a new message screen, shaking her sleeve back to reveal his number. She had to give it to him, he wrote impeccably well for a man. Neat, small, and sharp. She placed his number into the recipient box, creating the new contact. She was conflicted for what to put for the name, just Lucifer or Lucifer Morningstar. She went with the latter and moved on to the message space. It was time to fight how to introduce herself. She contemplated just going with her name, starting with professor or not. Professor Chloe Decker, Professor Decker? Finally, she just went with professor Decker, since he just called her Professor all the time anyways. She would never admit it, but she liked how he said her title; the way the bland word was given new life rolling off his accented tongue.

**Chloe: Lucifer, this is Professor Decker. Would 5:00 pm this evening work for you? **

She typed the message quickly, reading it over a few times to make sure she didn't type anything incorrectly. Autocorrect was not her friend. She looked at the time on her phone; it was only 10:00 am, so she hoped that would be plenty of time for him to sleep and get himself ready. She didn't have Trixie that night, so it would be fine to meet later, if needed. Less than a minute later, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand, the little blue light flashing signaling a new message.

**Lucifer: Perfect. I'll see you later, Professor. **

His message was short and simple. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it was definitely racier than what she received. She thought about replying, but decided against it, thinking that leaving it at that would be for the best. She collected her devices and left her office, locking the door and walking towards the parking garage. She had plenty of time to go back home for it to be worth the traffic-filled drive. She wasn't sure what she would do once home, maybe take a nap, maybe clean like she _really _needed to do. Whatever she ended up doing, it would help keep her mind off of spending time with her student-now-assistant.

* * *

He had been just walking into his apartment when he received her message. He laughed at how professional she was, but he had expected nothing less. He closed the door behind him with his foot as he typed out his reply, leaving it tame on purpose. He knew his remark as he walked away from her had not just been heard by her, and he knew that she was probably embarrassed by it. He plugged his phone into the charger once he realized she wasn't going to send him another message.

Lucifer went about the normal activities of drinking a bottle of water, chasing that down with two fingers of whiskey and toast. As he undressed, he grabbed the wad of twenties out of his pocket and placed it on the nightstand. One of the perks of working in an upscale club was that the tips were upscale, as well. He saw the hundred dollar bill mixed with the twenties, remembering the middle-aged Tech CEO that had given it to him to sing some cheesy ballad for the man's twenty-something date.

He showered quickly, considered jerking off, but realized that he couldn't be bothered at this point. After quickly pulling on a pair of briefs, he slipped into bed, remembering to set an alarm on his phone to give himself plenty of time to get to his meeting with Chloe. He liked hearing that in his head. He liked knowing he would be seeing her more often, even if he had to manipulate it slightly. Like with everything else in his mind, he pushed those thoughts aside and let himself go numb to fall asleep.

Lucifer woke up half an hour before his alarm was to go off. He decided to use the extra time to pick up something to eat, something to share with the Professor, on his was to campus. He knew exactly what he would get, figuring she was someone that would appreciate the simplicity of his choice. Well, he would make two stops on his way, but the second stop wouldn't take long. He got up and dressed in black slacks and black button-up, sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. He left his hair untouched and grabbed his glasses, smokes, and keys off of the kitchen counter before leaving his apartment, ignoring the small skip in his step as he walked down the stairs towards his car.

* * *

Chloe straightened her clothes and hair before heading towards her door. She had made no progress in cleaning her house, but she did manage to watch TV and take a nap. Just as she was grabbing her belongings, her phone made the quiet _bing_ sound. She looked down and saw his name on the screen, a small message left.

**Lucifer: Have you eaten?**

**Chloe: No.**

She looked down at the screen confused, only just realizing that she should have probably thought about eating during her down time. Her phone went off again, pulling her out of her thoughts.

**Lucifer: Excellent. Don't.**

**Lucifer: You're not lactose intolerant or anything are you?**

She laughed as the second message came almost immediately after the first. Who knew someone as reckless as him could be that thoughtful? She thought that, but, at the same time, she absolutely no idea what to expect from him.

**Chloe: No, I'm not. **

**Lucifer: Okay, I'll see you soon. **

With that, she left her house, figuring she had plenty of time to get back to her office before he made it. After all, there was over an hour before they were supposed to meet. The drive up was quiet, traffic being heavier than usual. She really hoped that she would get there in time. It would look horrible to be late to a meeting that she arranged.

Chloe made it back to campus with very few minutes to spare. There had been an accident on the interstate, a pretty bad one, and she had stopped to talk to one of the officers she recognized on-scene. She walked as quickly as she could from the parking garage without looking like one of those ridiculous power-walkers in the mall. As she rounded the corner, she could see the unmistakable form leaning against the wall by her office door. He was a length of all black, casually bracing himself on the wall, one hand holding up a lit cigarette to his mouth, the other by his side holding two bags. She noticed he had his glasses on again. He was one of those people that looked just as good with glasses on as they did with them off. _Damn._

As she walked closer, he turned his head towards her direction. He pushed himself off of the wall, flicking the cigarette away and giving her his best smile. She gave him an annoyed look, reaching out towards the door with keys in hand. "You're not supposed to smoke this close to a building," she warned, twisting until she felt the click of the lock.

"Oh, are you going to arrest me?" he mocked, bending down towards her level. Chloe scoffed, walking into the small room without looking back at him. "Please? It's been a while since a woman has bent me over and cuffed me," he added with a smirk, walking in behind her and closing the door.

"Ew, gross," she whispered, pretending to shudder as she turned around at the sound of the door closing. She thought about telling him to open it, but she didn't. The door should be open, she thought. Right? This wasn't like in high school; they were both adults, both adults expected to not engage in any inappropriate activities. She could do that. She caught him watching her as she stared at the door, so she averted her gaze towards the bags he placed on her desk. "So, what's in the bags?"

He found her _gross_ comment to be endearing; it was better than looking at him in disgust. He just wanted to make her wonder. He watched as she sat down, eyeing the bags in front of her, tilting her head to try and take a peak. "Well, I'm absolutely famished, and one of my favorite things about living in America is the never-ending supply of greasy food," he began, reaching in and pulling out four paper-wrapped squares with oil stains. He reached in again and pulled out a large, overflowing carton of fries. "Grilled cheese and chips, or _fries_, as you call them," he said, using an American accent to describe the fried potatoes.

Chloe opened her mouth and looked at the feast before her. She was so surprised he had brought this, not only was it one of her favorite meals, but it came from the same diner she always get hers from. "They don't have grilled cheese in England?" she asked, smiling at him. She watched as he placed a large quantity of napkins on the desk before sitting down, the smaller bag still sitting on the surface.

"They do, but not like this," he replied, grabbing one of the sandwiches and handing it to her. She gladly accepted it, taking in the sheer weight of carbs and fat. _Oh, yes._ "This, is pure indulgence," he finished, hastily unwrapping the sandwich and taking a large bite. He closed his eyes and groaned, chewing slowly as he savored the bite. Chloe tried not to think about the way that sound sent a shiver down her spine, making certain places twitch with interest.

"Thank you," she said softly, swallowing her first bite down. "I love these, they're the best." She could see his expression soften at her words. She figured someone like him would be praised for all sorts of things, but the way he sincerely seemed happy that she enjoyed what he bought was heartwarming. He was an enigma and she was interested to learn more about him.

"What's not to love about a warm, gooey center?" he asked with a smirk, all softness smoothing away as he took another bite directly from the center where cheese was oozing out between the bread.

"Does everything you say have to be an innuendo?" she asked incredulously, watching as he licked his thumb in a tantalizing way.

"I was just talking about a sandwich, Professor," he gasped, feigning offense. "Get your mind out of the gutter." He chuckled at little before popping the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. He reached out and grabbed a few fries from the communal pile, tossing them all in at the same time.

"Yeah, okay," she laughed, wishing she could kick him through the desk. "So, what's in that one?" she inquired, pointing her pinky towards the brown bag as she took another generous bite.

"I'm glad you asked," he jeered, lifting himself slightly to grab the bottle out of the bag. Chloe stopped mid-chew as he placed the glass back onto her desk, tossing the paper bag on the ground with the other. "Just something to wash down all the fatty goodness." He sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap, waiting for her response.

"What kind of person drinks whisky with their grilled cheese?" she exclaimed, tilting her head in his direction, astonished. That really wasn't the question here, but she was just flabbergasted with his food and beverage combinations.

"What kind of person doesn't?" he demanded, scrunching his face in playful confusion as he went for another grilled cheese. He used his pointer finger to press his glasses back up his nose as gracefully as someone would tuck hair behind their ear. She made a mental note to scratch her thought earlier: he might just look even better with glasses on.

"Everyone else!" she nearly yelled, trying to not let the grease from the cheese get all over her mouth as she smiled at him. She couldn't believe he was actually serious. He may have been flirty, but she could tell he really did intend to drink whiskey with their meal.

"Well, I guess not is as good a time as any for you to learn this now. I'm not like everyone else," he stated matter-of-factly. He makes a show of grabbing the bottle, unscrewing the lid and bringing it up to his lips. Holding her gaze, he lightly tips the bottle and lets the liquid glug twice before replacing the cap and licking away the drops of amber liquid from his lips.

"Okay, fair enough," she conceded, watching him unwrap his second sandwich with practiced precision. If she really thought about it, conversation came easy with him. They would fall into rhythms of talking and silence fluidly. There were not awkward moments, no time waiting for the other to speak. Just comfortable interaction.

"Try it," he suggested, nodding his head towards the bottle on the desk. He chewed with a small smirk on his lips, almost as if he were daring her to do it.

"I'm at work, we're supposed to be working, not drinking," she reminded him, grabbing a few fries for herself before Lucifer managed to eat all of them. She appreciated a man that could eat a lot, it always gave her the ability to eat as much as she wanted without feeling weird about it.

Lucifer took another small bite, half-way through the grilled cheese before setting it down on the desk. He narrowed his eyes before pushing the bottle slightly towards her. "Technically, these aren't your working hours, this is just a casual meeting," he remarked, moving forward in the chair so he could rest his forearms on the desk. His new position put them in closer proximity, and he could almost feel tension stringing between them. "I promise, I don't mind, Professor," he added, tilting his face down so she was met with his puppy-dog eyes.

She sighed, finishing her sandwich and balling up the paper. "I don't have a cup," she admitted quietly, doing whatever she could to get out of his request.

"I've had all my shots," he assured her, glancing at the bottle before returning his dark brown eyes to hers. "Come on, be a little rebellious.

Chloe studied him for a moment before licking her lips. She shook her head, leaning forward and grabbed the bottle off of the desk. She unscrewed the lid, bringing it up to her lips before lowering it slightly. "I'm doing this just because I'm curious to see if it actually goes well with grilled cheese," she explained, taking a small sip from the bottle. The familiar warmth burned down her throat, but it wasn't unpleasant. Strangely, the smokiness of the whiskey paired well with the cheese, almost tasting like the delicious burnt cheese edges on the sandwich. "Okay, you might be on to something there," she admitted softly, trying to wipe the grin from her lips.

Lucifer laughed, leaning forward to grab the bottle from her hand. His fingertips just barely brushed over her knuckles, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through his arm. He took a deep breath before placing the rim of the bottle against his lips. He let his tongue rest along the glass, swearing he could taste her lips as swallowed the liquor down. "I don't lie, Professor," he reminded, taking another sip before placing the bottle down.

She let them sit in their comfortable silence as she ate the remainder of the fries. Lucifer finished the last grilled cheese, gathering all of the greasy paper into one of the bags. Both he and Chloe had taken a few more swigs from the bottle, Chloe being very conscious of how much she sipped. He found it cute that she took the smallest sip, but he enjoyed that she was comfortable enough around him to let loose. The hour and a half they had been eating and "drinking" had gone by quickly, and no mention of class had happened.

Suddenly, as if his thoughts about it set an alarm off in her head, she quickly shuffled around and grabbed her laptop. "Okay, so, I was trying to go through and find something to give you, and I just couldn't really think of anything yet," she told him, her fingers dancing over the mouse pad. "However, I did want your input on how I could test the class on what we've already covered." She had hoped the transition into actual work-talk would have been smoother, but, she was never one to be smooth.

"Well, so far we've covered basic protocol and procedure, as well as hierarchy," he listed, fingers playing along the neck of the bottle. "So, you could present a scenario and have the class write up how they would go about the scene."

"Like have them write down the proper order of procedure, starting at securing the scene," Chloe stated, thinking of what could be a good scenario to start with.

"Exactly," Lucifer quipped, slumping down in his seat slightly. "You could even just go around, randomly picking some poor soul and asking them what the next step is." His suggestion wasn't bad. They hadn't gone over much, and a quick back-and-forth would provide Chloe some insight into the listening skills of the students. Including Lucifer. Regardless of his new _position_, he would need to be tested, as well. "Think of it as oral participation points."

There was a few seconds of silence before Lucifer burst out in quiet laughter. Chloe rolled her eyes at him, scoffing as she typed the idea down into her notes. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she asked, huffing out a short chuckle.

Lucifer leaned forward, scooting even closer to her desk so that his elbows were pressing into the wood. He shifted his body up so that he could peer over her screen, placing a single finger on the top of the device. "You can go ahead and give me an A for that," he said lowly, making eye contact with her. "If I recall, you witnessed some of my oral participation already."

Chloe's mouth fell open at his words. Of course she remembered what he was referring to. How could she not? One of the first times she had even seen him and she watched him go down on some girl in the classroom. That scene alone forced an insane dream into her head, one she had trouble fighting often. "Yeah, nice try," she smirked, watching as he leaned back into his chair, very pleased with himself for that. "You're not getting off that easy."

"Oh, I never do," he joked back, laughing as she covered her face with her hands before sighing. She was a lot of fun to joke around with. She didn't take him too seriously, so it never got to the point of too uncomfortable. Just enough to keep them both on edge.

"Anyways," she interjected loudly, closing her lap top, running her hands along the smooth surface. "Now that we've spent all of five minutes on _work_ stuff. I have nothing else," she admitted, placing her computer back in her bag.

A wave of anxiety washed over him. He didn't want to go back to his apartment. He didn't want to have to go out and look for company to keep him occupied. He had thoroughly been enjoying himself just sitting here and talking with Chloe. He wasn't having to perform or do any strenuous activity to earn the attention of others. He was simply sitting and talking, and he had her full attention. He shifted in his chair, the faint sound of keys jingling in his pocket gave him an idea.

"Do you have anywhere you have to be right now?" He inquired hopefully. He watched her eyebrows twitch slightly, as if in thought. She shook her head, scrunching he nose in wonder. "Good, because I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go home just yet."

Chloe opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. She wanted to tell him that their work was done, but she couldn't. Not with that hopeful gleam in his eyes. She should have said she needed to go home, but she didn't. Maybe it was the whiskey, although she hadn't really had that much to drink. Maybe it was just making her stop fighting herself. Truth be told, she didn't want to go home to her empty house either. Without Trixie around, it was too quiet, and it left her inner thoughts ringing in her ears as she tried to entertain herself until she fell asleep.

"What did you have in mind?" she questioned with a sigh, just hoping he would reply with something that didn't involve sexual activity.

Lucifer grinned ear to ear, feeling as if he won something. "It's a secret," he stated, standing up from the chair, smoothing down his slacks. "Come on, follow me," he ordered, motioning with his hands for her to follow.

"It better not be anything illegal," she warned, grabbing her bag and walking out of the office after he opened the door for her.

"No law-breaking, I promise," he insisted, closing her door and listening for the click of the lock. He walked next to her, occasional pressing his hand at her elbow to get her to turn or shift directions when needed. It was such a light touch, but he could feel her tense every time he did it. He hoped that it was good tension, and not stiffness brought on by discomfort. It wasn't too long of a walk, and luckily all the evening classes were still in, so the campus was relatively empty, only the occasional passerby who paid them no mind. Where he was taking he was a bold move, but he figured go big or go home, literally.

* * *

"Lucifer, I'm pretty sure breaking into the campus pool is actually against the law," she whispered, watching as he fiddled with the lock on the doors to the aquatics athletic center. When she had agreed to follow him, she had no idea where he was taking her. For all she knew, he was taking her somewhere secluded to kill her. Showing up at the door to the pool had not even been in her thoughts.

Lucifer turned the lock, enjoying the satisfying click as he watched Chloe's face return to her annoyed expression. "Technically, it's only breaking the law if you don't have a key," he chimed, holding up the small golden key as he opened the door for her. She narrowed her eyes, looking him over suspiciously before moving inside.

"Right, so who on the girl's swim team did you have to convince to give that to you?" Chloe asked, huffing out a small chuckle as she took in the quiet atmosphere of the place. Dim lights provided enough visibility to see everything easily. She could feel his presence behind her, standing close, almost too close, the smell of him effortlessly permeating her senses.

"Who said it was the girl's team, Professor?" Lucifer asked, winking before walking past her towards the pool entrance. Chloe stood still, her mouth slightly ajar as she watched him walk down the hall. His slacks and shirt hugged perfectly, leaving little to the imagination, but at the same time making her want to know exactly what was underneath. As she followed him, she wondered if he was serious about the boy's team comment. She had assumed, from what she saw and heard, he slept with girls, women, but she hadn't really sensed that he slept with men, too. Not that it bothered her. It was 2019, after all, sexual fluidity was more accepted now than it ever had been. She guessed she was more taken aback by his comment; by his willingness to admit that. She respected that.

"Okay, I get it. We're being bad," she mocked, holding her hands up in the air before slapping them down onto the sides of her thighs. "Lucifer, what are we doing here?" Once they were behind the doors, the smell of chlorine was prominent. It had been a while since she had been to an indoor pool, and she remembered why. It was stuffy, the chemical smell definitely not helping.

"Well, isn't it obvious, Professor?" he asked, walking a few feet away from her, standing closer to the edge of the pool, the lights under the water shining up and reflecting along his jawline. "We're going for a swim." He watched as her brain registered his words before her features took on a look of total shock. He suppressed a chuckle as he lifted his hands and started to work on the buttons of his shirt.

"You can't be serious?!" she exclaimed, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt with expert precision, inhaling sharply and fighting the urge to bite her bottom lip as he shrugged out of the fabric, kicking out of his shoes. She should have turned around, but she didn't. She didn't want to.

"Oh, come on," he teased, tossing his shirt to the side, far enough away from the edge of the pool to not get wet, working his belt undone. He removed his glasses and carefully threw them on top of the shirt. "I _know_ it's nothing you haven't done before." With that, he dropped his slacks, bending down to pick them up from around his ankles and peeling off his socks, all while keeping his eyes on hers. Chloe took deep, even breaths as she strained to keep her eyes on his, not letting them roam the length of his body like she wanted to. She could see out of her peripheral the hard lines and curved edges of his long frame, taking in the toned arms and legs as he moved.

He tossed his pants to the side, as well, the belt buckle clicking against the cement. He stood tall and proud in front of her in only his _very_ form-fitting boxer briefs. She knew he saw her eyes look down for a fraction of a second, but he said nothing, only smirked. "Lucifer, that was a movie," she said, her eyes wide, crossing her arms over her chest. "From sixteen years ago." She tried not to let it bother her that the man standing in only his underwear had been a young boy sixteen years ago.

"From what I can tell," his voice came out an octave lower, tongue running along his bottom lip as he raised an eyebrow, obviously eyeing her from head to toe. "You've still got it." His accent made him pop the sound of the last _t_, and that sent a shiver down her spine. He really could get away with a lot with that voice of his.

"That's not the issue here," she scolded, looking around when her voice came out louder than she anticipated. He chuckled at that, enjoying how hard it was for her to do something even the least bit rebellious. "It's us, me and you, together, _here_!" she yelled in a whisper, pointing her hand frantically between the two of them. "And you like that!" she exclaimed again, moving her arms to motion both hands towards him.

He wore a full-on smirk as he slowly backed towards the pool. "So, I'm guessing both of us being like this is off the table?" he mocked, watching her roll her eyes, trying to hide the grin on her lips. "Suit yourself," he said, turning his back and taking the last few steps to jump into the cool water.

She was stunned when he turned, taken completely off guard by what she saw. He looked so perfect from the front, nothing out of place, but when he turned, and she saw his back for a few seconds, her mouth fell open. Long lines, both jagged and neat, crossed over the plane of his back, some dark and raised while others were lighter in color and more superficial. Those marks had to be scars, they looked too healed to be anything recent.

She heard a second splash signaling his resurfacing from under water. The edge of the pool was almost at the water-line, making it easy to see him from her short distance away. Hair clung to his forehead as he shook excess water from his locks. He rested with his arms crossed over the edge, his smile fading from his lips once he caught her expression.

He wasn't surprised. It's not like he tried to hide it by walking backwards like an idiot. The scars were a part him, part of the man he was now, and he wasn't ashamed of them. They told a story, one that he never shared with anyone other than Maze. He left it up to people to decide what they were. More than half the time, no one seemed to notice them, and if they did, they didn't care enough to ask.

"We all have a past, Professor," he stated, breaking the silence. She could tell by his tone that he wasn't wanting to talk about it, but he was insinuating that everyone had secrets that people didn't know about. He spoke as if he knew what had happened to her, as if something similarly traumatic had happened to him. She didn't know how he knew that, but she was sure he was aware of something.

"Yeah, I guess we do," she replied softly, taking a step closer. She wasn't sure why she took another step, but she was beginning to feel awkward just standing there. She toed out of her boots, bending down to take her socks off and stuff them into her shoes. She looked up to see Lucifer watching her in awe. "Don't tell me you have a thing for feet," she groaned, her hands resting on the hem of her jeans.

"No more than the next man," he answered, watching as she started to peel the denim up over her shins. "Knees on the other hand," he sighed, trailing off his words with a moan. The horrified expression on her face made him laugh, water sloshing around him. "I'm kidding."

"Sure you are," she huffed out, cautiously eyeing him as she walked to the edge and sat down in a dry spot. She dipped her feet in, enjoying the refreshing sensation after having her boots on for a while. "So why here?" she probed, kicking her feet lightly in the water. "You had to know that I wouldn't strip down and get in."

"I like coming here when it's empty," he replied, moving closer to her, his arms still resting on the edge. "Being in the water makes you feel weightless, as if you leave all your worries with your clothes before jumping in." He motioned with his hand as if his digits were a small person jumping into the water. The action, along with his wet hair, made him look younger, far less experienced in life than he actually was.

Chloe studied him as he spoke. She hadn't expected an explanation like that. She had expected him to say something about the joys of pool sex, but not something so profound. "Yeah, I get that." She agreed, her hands on either sides of her thighs, holding on to the edge.

"Seemed like you could kind of use that, too," he expressed sincerely, a small smile forming on the corner of his lips. He had moved as close to her as he could without pressing himself against her. Occasionally, he could feel her ankle brush his ribs when she mindlessly swung her feet. Every time he felt that soft brush, his heart would skip a beat. He was in way over his head with this one. He had to forcibly will himself to keep his cock at bay. He was frustrated with himself for being like a virgin again, getting excited by minimal amounts of skin and touch.

"Hey," she called, shifting her hand over a few inches to bump against his arm. His gaze went from her hand, up her arm, to finally land on her face. The way the lights from under the water lit up her blue eyes made them look like moving pools. "Thank you." She was sincere, even with just her feet in the water, she felt more relaxed than she had felt in months.

"You're welcome, Professor," he replied in a whisper, his lips barely moving as his gaze shot back down to where her hand was still pressed against his upper arm. Tentatively, he shifted in the water, turning to his side so one arm dipped under the surface. He took a shaky breath as he slowly reached his hand forward towards her ankle.

He moved so slowly, she wasn't sure if he was even still moving. Her eyes darted from his hand to his face multiple times, her breaths coming in shallow. She watched as he slowly licked his lips before lifting his eyes up to hers. She watched his lips barely part as his thumb lightly made contact with the top of her ankle. Her breath hitched, eyes going wide, and the moment was instantly broken by the deafening tone of her phone ringing from her bag. She jumped, breathing quickly as she regained some composure. She could hear Lucifer exhale loudly as he moved his hand down towards his side under the water.

Without speaking, she quickly stood up, careful to not splash water onto the pool deck. She half-ran to her bag, pulling out her phone and answering it once she read the caller ID. "Hey, Dan, what's up?" she asked, sheepishly turning to watch as she heard Lucifer push himself out of the pool. She listened to Dan explain the situation, a case popped up and the Lieutenant requested he work it. Since Trixie was with him that night, he wanted to know if she would be able to come get her. She could see Lucifer walking towards the wall by one of the locker rooms, grabbing a towel from the large basket by the door. He quickly scrubbed at his hair before wiping at his entire body. She turned as she saw him reach for the band of his briefs, his eyes meeting hers from over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll come get her. Give me about an hour, okay? Great. See you then," she ended the call, shoving her phone back into her bag, still not wanting to turn around. She didn't hear him as he came back into her view, bending down to grab his clothes, sliding his glasses back onto his face before straightening back up. She could see the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, so low she could tell he no longer wore anything underneath it.

He watched as her eyes scanned down the front of his body before landing in the general vicinity of his hips. She stared for a couple of seconds before shutting her eyes and turning to face her back towards him. "Everything okay?" he asked, sliding into his slacks and fastening his belt. "Your eyes are safe from seeing anything frightening," he mocked from behind her.

Chloe turned slowly, keeping her eyes up towards the ceiling before slowly lowering them. She watched as he shrugged back into his shirt, buttoning it slowly with a half-hearted smirk on his face. "Um, yeah, it was just my Ex," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "He has to go to work, so I need to go pick up my kid."

Lucifer nodded, bending down to put on his socks. He tossed her the towel he had used so she could dry off her feet. She took the fabric, feeling the warmth of his body still on it and dried the water off her legs. She slid back into her socks while he toed on his shoes. He walked towards her, picking the sodden towel off of the ground and throwing it towards the nearest locker room.

Chloe briefly thought about where his underwear had gone, but she quickly pushed that thought aside, following him as he made his way towards the door. Once there, he turned to face her, a small smile on his lips. "Give me your key."

"What?" she questioned, her expression full of confusion as he held out his hand.

"The key to your office. I'll go clean up so you can go," he offered, raising his eyebrows as if expecting her to have handed it over by now. "I'll give it back tomorrow," he added, his voice lilting in a joking manner.

"I'll still have my daughter tomorrow," she answered, reaching into her bag for her keys anyway. She fumbled through the multiple keys, some of which she had no idea what they went to, until she found the small office key.

"I work tomorrow night. I can drop it by your place on my way," he presented, holding out his hand again as she slid the key off of the ring. She carefully placed it into his large palm, watching as he closed his hand before putting it in his pocket.

"Okay, um, thank you," she expressed, giving him a sad smile as they walked through the pool doors out towards the main exit. Once outside, she felt like she could breathe again, his scent wasn't as strong out here as it was in the pool area. Whatever _moment_ they were about to have, she had never been more grateful for her Ex than she had in that instance. She had almost pushed a boundary she wasn't ready to cross.

"Of course," he said, smiling back at her timidly. "I'll get your address tomorrow," he added, stepping closer to her but keeping his hands down by his sides.

"Okay, sounds good," she replied, pressing her lips together just to give herself something to do. She went to speak, but he stopped her, holding out a hand in her direction as he started to walk towards the direction they came.

"Have a good night, Professor," he said soundly, giving her one last look-over before turning to head back for the school. She would have to walk in the opposite direction, being closer to the parking garage than her office was. She sighed deeply before turning and walking away, trying to forget how badly she wanted to feel the warmth of his hand on her skin. How much that slight brush of his thumb had sent chills down her spine.

The drive to Dan's went smoothly, traffic unnaturally light, but she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She wouldn't dare even wonder why it was so light, for fear of jinxing her drive back home. Dan and Trixie were walking out of the door when she pulled into the driveway. He greeted her quickly, kissing their daughter on the top of her head before hopping in his car and driving off.

Chloe hugged her daughter before getting back in the car. She drove them home, listening to her daughter talk to her about the drama going on in her class. When they walked through the doors to their home, Chloe quickly dropped all of her stuff, Trixie doing the same, leaving a large pile of bags by the door. They grabbed two pints of ice cream and two spoons before plopping onto the plush couch, watching TV until they had their fill of dessert and fell asleep cuddled under a warm blanket.

* * *

Lucifer cleaned up all of their food wrappers from her office, tossing everything into the large trash can on the other side of the corridor. He straightened up any papers he saw, leaving the bottle of whiskey on her desk. Before leaving, he decided to fill up his flask before driving home. Depending on traffic, he might need it. As he rubbed down along his pockets, he remembered one tiny detail. He had completely forgotten to ask Chloe for his flask. _Damn it. _He hit his fist lightly against the desk before unscrewing the cap on the bottle and taking a generous gulp. As he had said the day before, hopefully, he would be able to get it back the next day.

He smiled to himself, palming the office key in his pocket once he had left and locked up. He walked quickly towards the parking garage as he thought about going to her house the next night. The opportunity had, quite literally, fallen into his hand, and after the almost-moment they had, he was anticipative for what would come of their partnership. The most thrilling part of the night hadn't been when he just barely touched her. It had been when she watched him, having plenty of time to either stop him or move, and she hadn't. She was going to let him do it. With that thought, he drove off, to head back to his place to properly relieve himself from the tension he built up.

* * *

**A/N: ****Oh boy... that was a ride, huh? haha. I hope you didn't mind the length of this one ;) I just couldn't stop and didn't want to separate it into two different chapters. Very un-edited. As always. Let me know what you think... I was in two completely different mindsets writing this chapter. The first half happened pre-season 4, the second half happened after I finished it... and I guess I just needed something light after the emotional brutality we all suffered. And did we see that... almost a moment... hmmm. **

**Quick question. Although I'm American, I use 24:00 time in my every-day life. I know the European readers would appreciate it, but I was wondering if the American readers (if there are any) would understand 24:00 time. Let me know. It really does make explaining time easier. Until next time, dark ones... :p**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Okay, so, finally a new chapter. Hope you guys didn't feel you waited too long. I'm trying to do longer chapters... I feel they will be best for the quality of the story you read. Also, very un-beta'd. Like, I didn't even really go over it. It's late, and I just wanted to finish it for you all. Sorry for the mistakes, they are all my own. Anyways, I hope you like this one! Happy reading. TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of Dominatrix work in the very beginning, just FYI.**

* * *

Lucifer pulled into a very conveniently opened parking spot right out front of the apartment complex. He hopped out of the car, a ball of nervous energy. He had almost made a move, and she had almost let him. He couldn't contain the excitement he felt with that, the only thing keeping him mellow was the fact that nothing had actually happened. It could still be forgotten and ignored, all due to the _saved by the bell _interruption. In all honestly, it was probably for the best. He had no idea where he would have tried to take things, the urge to just touch a part of her was so strong.

The ride up in the elevator was quiet, the supposedly relaxing music adding rom-com feel to the whole situation. In far too good a mood to retreat back to his room and scroll through numbers on his phone, he continued down the hall towards Maze's door. Sifting through his keys, he found the one she had given him years ago and barged into her place, like he always did, without knocking or announcing himself. Knowing his multi-faceted friend, the scene before him shouldn't have been a surprise, however, it was definitely jarring to walk in on.

Maze, dressed in a wonderfully skin-tight, black spandex body suit with matching 8-inch stiletto boots, whip in hand, was standing over a bound man on the ground. The man was in nothing but a pair of boxers with an oversized dog collar around his neck and ball-gag in his mouth. Maze had the heel of her boot digging into the man's crotch from knelt position under her. He was groaning in uncomfortable pleasure around the rubber ball in his mouth, his eyes terrified upon seeing Lucifer quickly closing the door.

Maze turned her head, looking over her shoulder and giving him the most annoyed expression he had ever seen. She bent down and looked towards the man on the ground. "Hold out your hands," she commanded, waiting for him to maneuver himself so he could bring his bound wrists forward, holding his palms out to her. "Hold this, and don't move. If you do, you get the whip," she warned, wrapping the whip into a circle and placing it on the platter of his hands.

"Yes, Mistress," he mouthed around the ball, barely audibly. Without any expression, Maze stood up straight and strut towards Lucifer, walking right past him and towards the bottle of tequila sitting on the counter. She got out two shot glasses, pouring them each one before handing it to Lucifer.

"I guess I really do need a sign to put up," she said, swirling the glass before tipping it back into her mouth. "Or you could be a normal person and knock," she glared, not trying to keep her voice down around the _company_.

"My apologies, Mistress Maze," he mocked, bowing his head before knocking back the shot. He let the burn of the tequila slide down his throat, a different sensation from his typical choice.

"I'm working, Lucifer. What do you want?" she asked, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. Her ridiculously tall boots put them almost at the same height, and she walked in them as if she were barefoot. An impressive feat.

He walked around her to go into the small kitchen. He opened her refrigerator and searched the meager contents, bending down to open the drawers. "Can't I just come by to see you?" he inquired, keeping his gaze in the fridge. With a sigh, he pulled out a red apple, closing the door with a thud. "Who the hell keeps apples in the refrigerator?"

She watched him take a bite as he turned to walk towards the small living room. He had almost forgotten about the man and was instantly reminded of his presence when he almost ran into him. Lucifer decided against pretending to ignore the poor soul and returned to the entry way by Maze.

"No, you usually need something," she reminded him, sighing at his awkwardness around her client. He knew he was supposed to pretend there was nothing abnormal about the situation. She had told him to act as if he wasn't there. "I thought you were supposed to be with your Professor." She stated, raising her split eyebrow at him.

"I was with her," he replied around the apple he was chewing in his mouth. He watched her face turn to interest and she thought about what she wanted to say.

"So, you finally fucked her brains out," she insisted, more of a statement than a question having known him and his closure rate.

"No," he responded with a sad sigh, a small grin returning to his lips as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "But we almost had a moment."

Maze opened her mouth, quizzical expression on her face as she tried to consider what a _moment_ could mean. "Almost a moment?" she repeated, moving her jaw to the side in wonder.

"Yes," he exclaimed, tossing the apple core across the room into the trashcan. "I nearly touched her and then her douche of an Ex called and interrupted the whole thing." He waived his hands in the air in irritation, stepping forward and starting to pace.

Maze wasn't sure how to reply. Lucifer had never been like this. If, by some rare reason, he didn't get the person he was after, he moved right on to the next. She was racking her brain for the right question to ask, but then they heard a small whimper come from the man on the floor. They both turned to see him shaking, his straining hard-on tenting his boxers tightly. "At least let he man relieve himself," Lucifer whined, raising a sympathetic hand towards him on the ground.

"No," she countered assertively, eyeing the slave carefully. "He likes it when I make him wait, don't you?" she finished, tilting her head up and over Lucifer's shoulder, directing her question to the bound man.

"Yes, Mistress," he stuttered around the gag, nodding his head vigorously.

"I let her do this to me once," Lucifer started, a fake smile on his lips as he turned towards the other man. "It was all fine and dandy until she hit me on the tip of my cock with that thing," he spat, pointing towards the whip in the man's hands. "Felt like I had shoved it right into an electrical socket."

Maze tried not to laugh as the slave groaned, remembering the one time Lucifer had explored her second job with her. She hadn't even whipped him hard, but it quickly became a _hard-no_ as far as sexual experimentation. She thought back with nostalgia on the earlier days of their friendship, but she appreciated what he was to her now even more.

"Lucifer, you know what this is. He wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be," Maze insisted, getting frustrated at the taller man she considered a close friend. "Plus, he knows his safe word. If it were too much, he'd have told me by now," she added, turning to look at her client with a small smile.

"Ah," Lucifer sighed, peering over Maze's shoulder. "Mine was monkey bottoms. Feel free to take it, if you'd like." It was hard to miss the perturbed expression on her face, and it only made him smirk even more. Maze could tell her client had almost chuckled, but held it in. _Good job._

"Ignore him," Maze ordered her client, shoving Lucifer towards her door. "He's not a good boy, like you," she added, shoving him out of her apartment to finish her job.

"Right, well, let me know when you're done stomping on this poor man's balls," Lucifer called from the other side of the door. He laughed to himself, only he and Maze could ever wind up in a situation like that and part ways as if they had just discussed the weather. He walked back to his room to begin his night of looking for something to do, having the next evening to look forward to.

* * *

Chloe woke up to the early morning sun rise beaming in through the glass of the back door. She was still on the couch, stuck under her daughter who was lying across her as if she had collapsed that way. Two cardboard containers and spoons were on the ground next to the couch, small amounts of melted ice cream pooling along the bottom. She knew it couldn't be any later than 0600 or 0700 and Trixie would hopefully sleep an hour or two more. Carefully, she sat up, scooping her daughter in her arms and carrying her the short distance to her bed. She tucked her in, the little girl not even moving as Chloe walked back out of her room. She envied the ability to sleep like a rock that all children seemed to have.

She decided against crawling back onto the couch to sleep until Trixie woke and requested breakfast, instead opting for a nice, relaxing shower, free of any time constrains besides the amount of hot water the heater could hold. She climbed the stairs towards her room, slipping out of the stretching pants and loose shirt she had changed into before the ice cream the previous night. Her bathroom was slighter warmer with the sun shining in, making it easier to stand there naked until the shower water warmed up.

Stepping inside, she let the water saturate her hair, running in streams down her body, relaxing tight muscles under her skin. Hot water igniting the nerve endings on her scalp as she started to shampoo her hair, the scent of milk and honey filling the steamy air from the rich lather. She could feel the suds and bubbles roll down her spine as she rinsed her hair, the sensation almost tickling. She almost made it to conditioning her hair before the feeling of water on her skin made her think about dipping her feet in cool water, with a nearly-naked younger man next to her.

Spending the evening with her daughter had forced any thoughts of the night's events from running though her brain. Now, alone in the shower, details were flooding her mind, making her feel conflicted. They almost had a moment. _She _had almost allowed them to have a moment. He gave her plenty of time to stop his movement, but she didn't. She had just watched as he slowly reached out to her. Thankfully, Dan had called and broken the spell. She couldn't believe how stupid she had been. She was already walking a fine line with him, talking the way they did and letting him drag her to the pool. It wasn't like her to just say yes to everything. He was affecting her.

She finished showering as an argumentative inner discussion kept up in her mind. Even entertaining the thought of anything else happening was wrong. It shouldn't cross her mind at all. Letting him strip in front of her shouldn't have happening, and she should have stormed out of the pool as soon as he started. She should have walked away when he used a key (that he acquired from the _boys team _[and she _really _shouldn't think about that]) to get into the pool in the first place. Alas, she didn't, and now she knew what he looked like under those extremely well-fitted clothes.

Even being mad at herself for going along with everything, she couldn't help the subconscious urge to bite her lip and let her head fall back in a silent moan remembering the way he, somehow, ate a fucking grilled cheese sexily, or how he looked soaking wet. He was a walking sin, and she was the avid church-goer doing everything she could to not be tempted. The fruit looked to be so sweet, though. Probably just as sweet as the way his perfect bottom lip would taste between her teeth.

The sound of her gasp brought her out of her thoughts. Water trailing over her face, one hand resting on her stomach with the other tracing her lips with delicate fingers. She quickly turned the water off and got out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel and taking calming breaths. She _would not_ allow herself to fantasize about him. That could be even more dangerous, and she was sure that he would, somehow, know about it. She could only imagine the satisfaction he'd feel if he got a hint that she had thought about him.

She brushed through her damp hair, throwing on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts before going back downstairs for much-needed caffeine. Sure enough, as soon as the pot had finished brewing and she had just poured the steaming liquid into a mug, Trixie bounced out of her room, begging for pancakes and bacon. Chloe kissed the top of the girl's head before getting to work on breakfast. She was no chef, but it was hard to mess up boxed pancake mix, and cooking bacon in the oven was way less risky than on the stove.

They ate their food at a leisurely pace, the soft and crunchy sounds breaking up the small spaces of silence between their casual conversation. Trixie was explaining the "drama" going on in her class, making Chloe smile at how young and innocent her daughter was. It was almost sad to know that, one day, she would be forced to realize that the world could be a horrible place most of the time. Being a cop had left her to the conclusion that no matter how many bad guys you put away, there three more ready to take his or her place.

Chloe spent most of the morning helping Trixie with some homework, taking a break for a lunch of fried egg and cheese sandwiches. To the disgust of many, she enjoyed dipping her sandwich in ketchup, and she had been told that even Americans shouldn't be that vile. However, she could not deny that ketchup with buttery, toasted bread, eggs, and cheese was an amazing combination. Trixie was very much like her father in that she couldn't stand the thought of doing that.

The afternoon went by slowly, Trixie had watched TV and drawn for a few hours, and Chloe had tried to read a book. She always found it hard to read because her mind would travel to some other thought, or maybe she just never found a book that interested her enough. While dazing out of reality for the umpteenth time, she heard her phone alert to a notification. Grabbing the device from under her thigh in the cushioned chair, she saw that it was already 1600. She had no idea she had been trying to read for more than two hours. Looking at the notification, she tried to not analyze the way her face lit up a little at the name that appeared on the screen.

**Lucifer: Good afternoon, Professor. I have not forgotten about your precious office key. I could drop it off shortly, if that works for you. **

**Chloe: Yes, I'll be home.**

Chloe hesitantly typed out her address, wondering if having him know where she lived was the best decision or not. She fought against it, setting her phone down once he replied that he would be heading over soon. She quickly stood up and straightened up the living room, arranging Trixie's things just for her to mess up the order as she drew her President of Mars self-portrait. She ran up the stairs to, at the very least, throw on a bra, deciding it would be best not to give him more fuel to flirt with. She contemplated changing into pants, a tight pang of playfulness in how maybe she could mess with him a little. Again, she shouldn't even think about playing with him, but it was just too tempting to not.

She did straighten her hair before heading back downstairs. She cleaned up the kitchen from the breakfast and lunch dishes she hadn't done yet. She knew it really didn't matter, he would be stopping by to drop off her key and that was it. She was just putting away the last pan when the doorbell rang. A wave of nervousness ran over her as she smoothed down the front of her lounge clothes, wishing she had worn something a little less… bummy. She stepped over her daughter, still on the floor drawing, to answer the door. Instead of a tall, dark, and unfairly attractive man, she was greeted by a woman shorter than she was and a little girl.

"Tammy," Chloe stated, wide-eyed, and her voice flat with the indecision of relief or disappointment.

"Hi, Chloe," the woman greeted, a huge, unsure smile on her face. "We haven't interrupted anything have we?" she asked, taking in Chloe's slightly confused appearance.

"No, no, I just wasn't expecting you," she assured her, forcing a smile on her face to help settle her neighbor.

"Okay, well, Jessie wanted to know if Trixie could sleep over tonight," Tammy started, smiling down at her daughter, who was trying to look past Chloe into the living room.

"Oh, can I, mommy?" Trixie begged, running towards the door to stand next to her mother with the largest set of puppy-dog eyes she'd seen, without the prospect of chocolate cake.

Chloe looked down at her, running her hand along the back of her head to try and smooth down the mess of her hair. "Sure, monkey, just go pack some clothes and PJ's, okay?" she instructed, smiling affectionately as both girls squealed and Trixie ran back towards her room. Chloe looked back up towards Tammy and noticed a figure turning the corner and coming right for the door.

Her mouth opened as she made eye contact with him. Lucifer was mid-stride when he noticed the women and girl standing at Chloe's door. He tried to nonchalantly turn around, but noticed the other woman look over her shoulder in his direction. Not wanting to make it any more awkward, he decided on continuing towards the door, charming grin reaching his eyes.

"Oh, I guess I should have called," Tammy realized, looking between Chloe and Lucifer in fascination and shock. Chloe watched as Tammy, very obviously, eyed him top to bottom, taking in every inch he had to offer. She tried to be discreet about it, but her gaping mouth completely gave her away. It didn't seem to bother Lucifer any, actually, he seemed pleased by it. In all honestly, she couldn't blame the woman. He was dressed in charcoal slacks, white button up, and matching charcoal waistcoat. He looked about ready to have all of that torn off of him.

"Oh, no, no, no," Chloe interjected quickly, holding her hand up in defense. "It's fine. He's my TA, just dropping something off," she finished, pressing her lips together, trying to make herself sound as serious and as professional as possible.

"Yes, I am but a servant," Lucifer admitted, accent rolling off his tongue as he bent down slightly to meet Chloe's eyes. Tammy admired the way his clothes stretched over his body, perhaps a little too much because she was clearly biting her lip.

"Yeah, okay," Tammy agreed, but Chloe could see that the woman didn't really believe that. She understood, a guy walking up to your door looking like _that_ couldn't possibly be just a TA. Any sensible woman would be all over that.

"Oh, you must be Beatrice," Lucifer quipped, looking down past the women towards the little girl that had approached silently. Chloe hadn't even felt her come to stand next to her, small back pack filled with toys and, hopefully, clothes. "I'm Lucifer."

Trixie smiled, looking between he mom and the much taller man behind her friend and her mother. "People only call me Beatrice when I'm in trouble," she informed him, standing as tall as she could. "How do you know my mom?"

"She's sort of my boss," he replied softly, bending down enough so she could hear him. He gave her a huge smile, his eyes quickly shooting up to meet Chloe's before returning to Trixie.

"Really?!" Trixie exclaimed, looking up at her mother in wonder. Chloe couldn't believe the way that look made her feel as proud as it did. As a mother, you want your child to be proud of you, and in that moment, she felt it.

"You know how your teacher has a helper sometimes?" she asked the little girl, smiling sweetly at her and waiting for her to nod. "Well, Lucifer is my helper." She took her gaze away from the girl towards Lucifer. He gave her a quick, knowing, wink before returning his attention to the other people.

"You better listen to her," Trixie warned him, so sincere and so innocent. "Mommy can get very mean when you don't." Chloe scoffed, lightly nudging her on the arm as the girl giggled.

"I will try my best, Beatrice," he stated, watching the way the girl rolled her eyes when he said her full name. "But sometimes in really hard for me to be good." He looked at Chloe with one of his _smug bastard_ expressions. It took everything out of her not to completely face-palm when she saw Tammy's jaw nearly fall to the ground.

"She prefers Trixie," she told him, noticing the way Tammy was observing their banter with confusion and, somewhat, judgmentally. She really needed to keep this brief; she didn't need to have the entire neighborhood wondering who the hunky guy visiting Chloe Decker was.

"Well, I can't, in good conscious, call your daughter Trixie, Professor," he stated, a smirk on his lips. "I've known a number of _Trixies_ in my time, and your offspring should not be lumped in with that crowd." Yep, one of the parties needed to leave, immediately. He, apparently, had no off switch, even in a situation where a twenty-seven year-old should know when it was okay to be coy and when it wasn't.

"Yes, thank you, Lucifer," she responded snappily, her voice raising in a warning for him to stop talking. He raised his eyebrows, looking all the part of a child unsure of what they had done. She could only close her eyes, sighing deeply, wondering if Tammy would ever bring her daughter over to their house again. She turned her gaze to Trixie, who had been talking with Jessie quietly. "Okay, monkey, have a good time. Call me if you need anything," she added, more to Tammy than to her daughter. The woman nodded knowingly, giving Lucifer one long, last look before motioning for the girls to follow her. They could hear them talking about pizza toppings as they walked out of ear shot.

Chloe looked at Lucifer, her eyes full of annoyance as he simply smiled back at her, tucking his hands behind his back. "Well, good evening, Professor," he greeted her, finally. He knew he had been slightly out of line with the other woman around, but he just couldn't help playing with her, making her a little uncomfortable. He could see, although she was irritated, she was a little amused with him.

"Just get inside before anyone else sees you," she ordered, gesturing for him to enter the threshold. She turned her back, knowing he wouldn't have to be told twice about entering her home. She walked into the living room, bending down to pick up the paper and crayons Trixie had left on the ground.

Lucifer tentatively walked inside and closed the door behind him. When he looked back up, he was met with Chloe's long, lean legs exposed nearly all the way up as she was bent down and picking up things off of the floor. He fought the instinctive urge to pull at his collar as he imagined running his hands up her thighs, fingertips brushing the junction where her legs met her hips. He stopped himself from thinking any further in order to not have to try and hide a massive erection in his slacks.

"I hadn't realized I was such an embarrassment," he admitted softly, half joking and half sincere. No one had ever tried to hide his presence, even the married women and men he'd been with. He wondered how he could affect so many people one way and affect Chloe in the complete opposite direction.

"It's not that," she responded with a sigh, placing all of the coloring tools on the coffee table. She plopped down on the couch, patting an open space, a good distance from her, for him to sit down. "People like to talk here, and I just don't want any rumors spreading."

"Oh, I know. How _dare_ you have male company," he joked, feigning admonishment. He only smiled once he saw the corners of her mouth turn up as she rolled her eyes. He paused in front of her couch, contemplating whether he would sit or not, and deciding to take the proffered seat one cushion away from he. He let himself sink back into the couch, noticing how it was comfortably firm and supportive. He adjusted himself, noticing how it seemed to be a sturdy piece of furniture. He tried not to think about how Chloe would look bent over it.

"Wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea," she added, her voice almost a whisper as she watched the way his waistcoat gaped at his chest, the buttons straining against his flat stomach in this position. Everything he wore fit him like a glove, and she wouldn't have believed it got better once his clothes were off, but she knew now, it did.

"Of course not," he insisted, turning slightly to look at her better. He leaned slightly towards her, remaining on his side of the couch and not approaching her space at all. "I mean, what else could we be doing?" His words were full of hidden innuendo as he smirked at her, raising an eyebrow before licking his lips seductively. Chloe swallowed thickly, not wanting to give away that his words might have affected her, in the slightest. "To get business out of the way," he inserted after a brief period of silence, slipping his hand down into his left pocket. He pulled out the small golden key and held it out between his thumb and index finger for her.

She took the key, noting the warmth of the metal from his body heat before placing it down on the coffee table for safe keeping until she put it back on her key ring. She tucked her legs up under her, leaning into the side of the couch casually. She saw Lucifer watch her legs disappear underneath her, and she swore she saw his eye twitch at her actions.

"So, it seems you are a free woman tonight," he insinuated, making a point of looking around to show that the house was empty other than them.

"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed, running a hand through her hair, thinking of what she could watch on TV, or what ridiculously spicy food she could order without fearing her daughter might accidentally eat it.

"Go get dressed," he ordered, very casually, as if nothing was strange with his request.

"Excuse me?" he questioned, her face scrunching up at the sheer audacity of his words. She was beginning to regret inviting him inside.

"You're coming to work with me," he answered, still casual and collected. He was simply looking at her as if he couldn't comprehend what she wasn't understanding.

"No," she said blatantly, shaking her head and turning her face away from him. "I'm not going out to some super fancy place with you." She crossed her arms over her stomach, changing her position so that she was sitting cross-legged in her corner of the couch.

"You won't technically be with me, I'll be working," he added, doing his best air piano work, earning a small chuckle from her.

"So I'm just supposed to go sit there by myself?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as he looked at her like she had just grown another head.

"Is that not what you'd be doing here?" he retorted, waiving his had about, signaling the now childless house. "Sitting alone there will be far less depressing than sitting alone here." He meant it as a joke, she could tell, he wasn't naïve to think solitude was unwelcome. "Besides, the alcohol is far superior to whatever swill you have here."

Chloe scoffed at him for insulting her taste in alcohol. He wasn't wrong, though. She was never one to go for taste, more looking for the cheapest bottle of whatever she could find. If it could get her feeling it, then it was working. No need to spend a ton of money when $5 worked just as well.

"I would put money down that you have a box of pinot grigio here," he added, challenging her as she clearly tried to hide the fact that she actually did. Lucifer made a move to stand to go searching for said box, but Chloe jumped up and placed a hand to his chest to stop him. He looked down at her delicate hand, fighting the urge to place his on top of it.

"Okay, fine!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand off of him after a few seconds had gone by. "I'll go."

"Excellent!" he chimed, wearing a huge grin in the face of his victory. He hadn't minded her hand on him, not one bit, but she seemed rather surprised by her actions. He felt the loss of heat when she had snapped her hand away, a cooling sensation in a perfect pattern of her small hand.

"But I'm driving myself," she interjected, holding up her hand in front of his face. He went to protest but he closed his mouth, taking it as a compromise to her going out. He couldn't hide his smug grin as she looked obviously conflicted at her new plans, but he did see the smallest glint of interest in her eyes when he had offered.

"Fine, I get it, must keep up appearances of not having any fun," he groaned, slightly unnerved by her fear of judgment. He really did understand; he grew up in a family where outward appearance was everything, and how others saw you determined your worth. He just couldn't imagine a creature as beautiful as she would need to worry about that.

"So, where do you work?" she questioned, taking a step towards the staircase leading to her bedroom. To her surprise, Lucifer did not try to follow her, he simply stepped back to sit on the couch again.

"The Silver City," he recited, with all the sophistication he could muster. "Although, come to think of it, there isn't much silver in the place." He looked out at nothing, clearly contemplating the color scheme of his workplace in his head.

Chloe laughed at that, wondering how much he actually observed of his workplace, not including the patrons. "Oh, I've heard of it, but never been. I'm more the cop bar type." She brought a finger to her lips, thinking on her days at The Paddock with Dan and her other colleagues, back when she was still part of them. Not one person still wondered about her, aside from Ella and Dan, or course.

"It's had a more peaceful atmosphere than your dive bar," he said, weighing the pros and cons of the different establishments. "However, it truly is a den of iniquity," he added, his voice dropping a few octaves and giving her a knowing look. His slacks grew tighter as her finger toyed with her bottom lip, and he was grateful for already being in a seated position.

"Oh, so you fit right in, don't you?" she joked, narrowing her eyes at the man sitting, somehow gracefully, on her couch. He made the piece look small, but he sat with expert precision, probably pretty used to making accommodations for his height.

"Would you like to find out?" he countered, licking his bottom lip as seductively as he could. He lowered his gaze so he was looking through his lashes, eyes shining with all the heady desire he felt for her in those small shorts. Her tanned thighs were just begging to have his hands wrap around them as he nipped at her skin with his teeth.

"Yep, I walked right into that one," she huffed under her breath, reaching for the banister on the stairs. "So, what should I wear?" She was actually surprised when he stopped flirting and actually thought about her question.

"I, for one, would love to keep you in those little shorts, but that would be frowned upon there," he quipped, his flirting already back. As if she couldn't feel even more exposed in front of him. She had to admit to herself, however, it did make her feel nice to know he appreciated her legs. "Maybe if I had a look at what you have…" he trailed off, raising his eyebrows in doomed hope.

"Yeah, I think I got it," she stated, holding her hand up and shaking her head at him. He slumped back into the couch in defeat, a very _suit yourself_ expression on his face. "I won't be long," she told him before hopping up the first few steps. "Don't go snooping around!" she yelled down, knowing he had probably already started to look through the living area. With her super-hearing she got after becoming a mother, she heard him curse under his breath before the thud of him sitting back on the couch. She smiled at his childishness, somewhat envying it.

As she looked through her closet, she realized she didn't have very many items to choose from. She had plenty of business casual attire, both appropriate for being a Detective, and now, Professor. She thumbed through the hangers, finally landing on a dark, burgundy dress with a square neckline. It was form fitting, and could best be described as sophisticated, the hem landing just above the knee. When she took it off the velvet hanger, tag hanging sadly under the short sleeve, she remembered when and why she had bought it. It was supposed to be a date-night dress for her to wear with Dan, years ago. They never went on that date, and she never got the chance to wear the dress.

She sighed, thinking it a good as time as any to finally break in the dress she paid more than she normally did for. She fished the pair of black suede pumps out of the bottom of her closet, the chunky heel making them easier to walk in. Never one to take too long to get ready, she quickly applied a smoky brown shadow all over her lids, darkening the outer corner and bottom lash line. A touch of mascara and her signature pinky-brown lip, she was complete. She slid into the dress, the material stretching nicely around her curves and slipped into the shoes, feeling the stiffness from lack of wear.

A final look-over in the bathroom mirror had her shaking her head and huffing. This was ridiculous. Why was she following him to his workplace? Just because Trixie was away, didn't mean she had to go out. She knew the ridiculousness of the situation, yet, she was excited about it. She hadn't been out this frequently in almost a year. She convinced herself that it was good for her. She wasn't technically breaking any rules. She was meeting him there, not for a date, just a night out. He would be working, so not with her anyways. No harm, no foul.

She gathered the courage to go back downstairs, carefully in the heels, expecting to find Lucifer up and about, considering her complete lack of homemaker qualities. When she rounded the corner of the landing, she could see his legs at the couch, so he had stayed in place. He was scrolling through his phone, but looked up the second she came into view. His expression immediately caused a flush on her cheeks, tinting the skin a rosy hue. It was a look he gave her often, but more amplified, as if she continuously surprised him with her appearance.

"Is this okay?" she asked quietly, nervously running her hands along the front of the dress as if chasing away lint. She bit at her bottom lip, tucking in a stray loop of hair that had tried to escape the messy bun she still wore. She looked up at him as he huffed out a small chuckle, slowly rising from his seated position to walk towards her.

"It's perfect," he responded in pure adulation, his eyes unable to stay on hers, roaming along her body from her lips down, noting how the square neckline accentuated her feminine décolletage. His gaze made it down to her heels and he fought the urge to groan, imagining her standing in front of him in only those pumps. His eyes slowly made their way back up her body, landing on hers through his lashes as he inhaled deeply. Chloe swore she could see a hint of primal need in the way he was looking at her; his lip parted, tongue resting along his bottom teeth, the heat of a thousand suns in his dark brown irises burning into her form. He almost looked dangerous, the best way someone could look dangerous, in a way where her morals and rationale were at risk.

"Okay, good," she sighed in relief, trying to hide the way his stare was affecting her, making her want to give in to whatever was going on. "Okay, so I'm ready when you are." She smiled at him, clearly intending to step away but was held frozen by his presence in front of her. He made no move to let her walk by, instead, he continued to look her over.

"Not quite ready," he insisted, stepping closer to her and looking down at her lips. She watched him slowly raise his hand and reach around towards the back of her head, holding her gaze. He took the claw-like clip out of her hair, letting the blonde waves cascade over her shoulder and down her back like a golden ocean. His lips twitched up in a smile at the sight as he lightly adjusted a few errant strands with his thumbs and pointer fingers. "There, now you're ready."

She was constantly surprised by him. One second, he was flirting uncontrollably, the next he was making her feel like the most exceptional person in the world. Making her feel like a woman again; one that is attractive and worth any effort, not someone to be used. She looked down at her toes, smiling, unable to make eye contact with him. She knew he was probably smirking as he stepped back, allowing her to move if she wished. She took the opportunity to walk towards the chair she had been in earlier, grabbing her phone before heading towards the door. She heard him behind her, taking careful steps as she grabbed her bag, sliding her phone inside.

"So, um, I guess I'll see you there," she blurted, almost a question, and she dug for her keys in her bag. "I know where it is," she assured him before he had time to persuade her into riding with him.

"Yes," he replied with a curt nod, opening the front door to her house to let them both out. They stepped out into the dying heat, thankful for the dry air of the west-coast in keeping her hair at bay. "I do have a question," he stammered, quickly walking ahead of her to open her car door for her after the beep signaled it unlocked. She shook her head at his gesture, but watched him and waited for him to continue. "Do you happen to have my flask with you?"

She stood still in confusion, unsure of what he was asking about before the memory came back to her. She had taken it a while back when she had given him a ride home. She opened her mouth with a pop, digging around in her bag before pulling out the metallic container. She laughed at his sigh of relief, wondering if he had nearly died without it. He held out his hand and she went to give it to him but quickly pulled it back against her chest.

"I'll give this back, but no drinking and driving," she ordered, slanting her eyes at him as she shook the flash, letting him know there was still liquid inside.

"I will not drink on my way to work," he insisted, keeping his hand held out for it. "I promise," he added, raising his eyebrows and sighing in defeat. That seemed to please her enough and she handed him his beloved possession. He opened it as soon as it was in his hands and downed the remainder of the whiskey left, tasting a bit stale, but still burning nicely. Chloe's jaw nearly touched the ground in astonishment, gasping at his bold act. "See, there's nothing for me to drink while driving," he quipped, holding the empty flash upside-down to prove its emptiness. He made his way towards his car on the street, smiling back at her before getting in.

She watched him peel out of his parked position, tires screeching as he passed her house. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, she would definitely have words with that smug bastard when she got to the bar. She entered the oven of her car, starting the engine and turning the AC on full blast. She let the air start to cool the cabin before she tried to drive away, taking the time to inform Tammy that she wouldn't be home for a bit, and to call her if she needed anything.

Chloe backed out of her driveway, still in disbelief of herself for agreeing to meet him at this _very _prestigious bar. She didn't belong there; in fact, she wasn't sure if she knew anyone who belonged there. She knew about it from her work as a Detective, and she knew that most of the people who frequented that place had more money than knew what to do with, and also had many less-than-legal ways of obtaining their fortune, as well. She wasn't a cop anymore, however, so she had no authority to judge anyone anymore.

* * *

Right before she turned on to the street the bar was on, Lucifer had texted her. She quickly read the message at a red light, huffing out air at his statement. He told her to park with the valet, that he had told them about her and she didn't have to worry about it, it was taken care of. Normally, something like that would have bothered her, but street parking was never guaranteed, and she did not want to end up walking a block back to her car later.

She drove up to the valet, giving her name and stepping out of her car to let him in. He took her name right away, handing her a small ticket with a number on it that she put into her bag. _The Silver City _didn't have a huge sign that could be seen from the street. It didn't need it. The eloquent sign hanging above the entrance, written in a silvery cursive print, gave the destination a country-club type feel. It was a place people knew about rather than finding as they walked down the street. As she remembered, there were no bouncers, as younger people didn't seem to be drawn to calmer atmosphere.

The lighting was rather dim, sconces lining the walls, chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling, as well as the lights behind the bar are all what provided light to the large, open room. There was a stronger light shining over the black grand piano in the center of the room. She was half expecting to see Lucifer there, but the bench was empty. She scanned the large room, already decently filled with the quiet murmurs of a small crowd. She could smell the hint of smoke from cigars and cigarettes, this being one of the few locations that still allowed smoking indoors. Lucifer had said it was a sin bin.

"You can't help but follow all of the speed limits, can you?" a low, sultry voice whispered into her ear from behind her. Even though she recognized the accent, she still startled, her shoulders slightly raised closer to her ears.

She heard his chuckle from right behind her, feeling his body heat radiate onto her back as he stood only a few inches from her. She could see that he had reached out to hold on to her arm, but kept his hand out to the side, clearly having thought against it. "You just drive like a maniac," she countered, turning around to face him. He looked as if he had been there for a bit of time, a drink coming up to his lips as he smiled down at her.

"Come on," he gestured, placing his hand lightly against the small of her back, leading her further in towards the bar. "I want you to meet someone." Chloe let him guide her through the massive room, the barely-there lights making it a little difficult to make out the exact shapes of other people below their chests. She figured the dimness was something you got used to the longer you were in there. When they reached the bar, Lucifer hit his hand against the polished wood, trying to get the attention of the woman facing the other direction, going through the expensive bottles on the shelves in front of her.

"Oh my god, what?" she groaned, speaking as if she knew who was making a racket trying to get her attention. When Lucifer continued to smack the bar, she finally turned with a huff, immediately averting her gaze towards Chloe. "Holy shit, this is your teacher?"

It took Chloe a second to recognize the darker-skinned woman, about the same age as Lucifer, with shoulder-length, dark hair. Her makeup was sharp and intimidating, as it always was when she saw her at the station. "Mazikeen Smith?" she asked, although she already knew the answer. Mazikeen was well-known at the precinct as the most skilled bounty hunter they had worked with.

Lucifer stared at the two women in amazement, his mind clearly working in horribly filthy ways. "You two know each other?" he questioned, his eyes darting back and forth between them. The shocked smile on his face was left unnoticed by both of them.

"Yeah, I know her from the station," Chloe stated, shaking her head and looking at Maze. She couldn't believe it, never would she have guessed her and Lucifer knew the same person. "She's one hell of a bounty hunter," she praised, resting both hands on the bar.

"Well, thanks, Decker," Maze responded, putting a hand on her hip with pride. "I stopped seeing you around the station, and they told me you were teaching, but I would have never guessed you would be this idiot's teacher!" she exclaimed, throwing a hand towards Lucifer and smacking him on the arm.

"That's just great," Lucifer whined, downing the rest of his drink and sitting the glass down on the bar. Like clockwork, Maze started refilling as soon as the glass was sitting on the surface. "Now I'll have two people talking shit on me in here," he joked, pretending to roll his eyes in annoyance.

"That's right, so go do your job so we can get to it," Maze ordered, pointing a long, thin finger down towards the piano. She put both hands on her hips like a mother would when waiting on their child to listen. Lucifer grabbed his glass, holding his arms up in defeat as he started to back away. He looked at Chloe and only continued after she gave him a short nod that she was okay.

"Any requests, Professor?" he asked before stepping away further.

"Surprise me," Chloe requested, smiling at him as he seemed to think about it for a second before turning and walking towards the instrument. She watched his natural strut, finding herself seeing flashes of him without his clothes, now that she was privy to that knowledge. She turned back to face Maze, who was watching her with a smirk on her lips.

"_Wow_," Maze mouthed, grabbing a glass and beginning to mix a drink for Chloe. She finished the cocktail, adding a wedge of lime to the rim before setting it in front of Chloe. "Here, a gin and tonic. Nice and light," she stated, giving he a wink.

"Thanks," she responded, marveling at the speed of which the other woman managed to make the drink. "So, how did you and Lucifer meet?"

Maze stopped organizing the multiple carafes of garnishes for a moment, considering Chloe's question before continuing. "We met right after he came here," she said, thinking back to the time she ran into him, literally, at the airport when she was chasing a bounty. "We hit it off, and have been friends ever since," she concluded quickly, giving the professor a small smile before taking the drink order of a man close by.

"Oh," Chloe breathed, sipping her immaculate cocktail gingerly. Damn, Maze was one hell of a bartender. She didn't hear Maze return to her space in front of her, having made the man's drink already.

"It's just a long story, and not really all mine to tell," she admitted, nodding her head in the direction of Lucifer at the piano. Chloe looked over her shoulder to find him finally sitting down, placing his hands on the keys and beginning to play. It took her a moment to recognize the tune, but when she did, she couldn't help but roll her eyes in exasperation. Although the song was not intended to be covered on a piano, she could clearly hear the undeniable tone of _Hot for Teacher_ playing through the keys.

She could see the extent of his smirk from her distance, just grateful that he decided not to sing the too-close-to-home lyrics and just play the recognizable riff. She saw him wink at her, clearly getting back at her for being so bold as to request to be surprised. She ground her teeth at him, trying to appear seething, although she found his performance quite entertaining. She turned back to her drink, taking two large gulps before setting it back down. She looked up to find Maze shaking her head in Lucifer's direction before her gaze landed on her.

"Hey, just be careful with him," Maze warned, lowering her voice even though Lucifer was far enough away to not hear her. "He's not exactly the most stable person, emotionally or mentally," she added, pulling away from Chloe to make eye contact.

"Oh, it's not like that," Chloe defended, absorbing Maze's words and trying to understand them. She hoped she wasn't reading too much into his choice of song. "He's just my TA," she reminded with a small, fake smile. She could tell just by the way her facial expression did chance that Maze didn't believe her. Fair enough.

"Yeah, okay," she said, pressing her lips together before releasing them with a pop. She watched as two couples approached the bar on the other side, giving Chloe a small nod before walking over to tend to them.

Chloe turned on the stool she was perched on to face the center of the room. The soft music coming from the piano filled the ambient space in the air, mingling with muffled conversation and the clinking of glass. She watched as Lucifer sat on the bench, hands moving along the keys expertly, a smoking cigarette sitting in an ashtray next to his drink on top of the instrument. Here was this beautiful man surrounded by people that wanted him for everything he could do for them, yet there was a darkness in his eyes that she could see from where she was sitting. A pain he tried to cover with flirtation and risky behavior. Now, more than ever, as he started to play a soothing tune on the instrument, she wanted to understand what could cause that hurt to seep through such a confident shell. It had her wondering, as well, if her own pain showed through her eyes as if they really were the windows to her soul. Windows Lucifer was able to peer into with ease.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, yes, a bit of a cliffhanger, but not a suspenseful one. We'll get right back to this interesting evening in the next installment. I am sorry for any mistakes, I finished this pretty late and just wanted to get something out for you guys. I hope you like the longer chapters. I know it'll make updating less frequent, but I think it'll be better for the storytelling processing, and for your reading pleasure. Let me know what you thought. A bit of an uneventful chapter, but I'm sure the next will have some shit go down ;) Until next time dark ones…**

**PS: Be on the look-out for a new, super smutty installment of Crimson Stare soon! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, I know, you've waited a little bit. I have literally had no opportunity to write all week. Okay, so here it is. I hope you guys like it. Un-beta'd, of course, just so you know, probably mistakes. Also, just a little warning, a M/M scene is in it, just FYI, but it is an M rated story, so, yeah. Happy reading!**

* * *

A few hours had passed; more and more of L.A.'s elite had walked into the club, arm candy in tow, all wearing the best designer suits and cocktail dresses around. She thought it might be boring, sitting on her own, but Maze was good company when she wasn't pouring drinks for the other patrons. Chloe was still a little shocked that both she and Lucifer knew her, granted, Chloe only knew her from the brief times they ran into each other at the station. She had always admired Maze. Yes, she was rough and brazen, but she was a woman that didn't put up with anyone's shit, and she respected that.

Lucifer had come back and forth between the bar and his spot at the piano a few times, and Chloe was surprised at the range of music he could play from memory. When he started playing a familiar Metallica song, she was sure only she and Maze were entertained by it. It was great, and Lucifer had looked thoroughly pleased with himself for it. The other patrons, however, were not as enthused by his rendition of _Master of Puppets. _He played a few classier songs before strutting back towards Chloe and Maze, blowing air out of his pursed lips.

"Okay, I've appeased the masses," he claimed, sitting in the stool next to Chloe. Maze rolled her eyes at him as she dried a freshly cleaned martini glass. "I'm taking a break." He made a point of popping his knuckles before looking back at Maze, who had rolled her eyes again.

"Hands get tired?" Chloe asked, sipping the seltzer water and lime she had instead of alcohol. She did have to drive herself back home, and she was already feeling the couple of drinks she did have. Maze had a very generous pour.

Lucifer looked at her as if she had asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. "Professor, these never get tired," he informed her, flexing his fists and wiggling his fingers on the top of the bar. Maze laughed at that, taking a sip of her own drink she had made a few minutes prior to his arrival. Before she could set it back down, Lucifer reached over and pulled it from her hand, downing the rest of the contents. "Ah, that was awful, what on Earth was that?" he grimaced, nearly choking on the subjectively foul tasting liquid.

Maze sighed heavily, reaching for her empty glass and putting it back behind the bar. "It was a bit of Jagger with a shot of Kahlua," she responded, furrowing her brows at him as if her concoction was the most normal thing out there.

"I'm pretty sure that could win against Bitrex for the most bitter substance known to man!" he exclaimed, looking at the bar on either side of him for something to help soothe his withering tongue. His desperate eyes landed on Chloe's drink and he quickly grabbed the glass and swallowed down the contents in one go. He set the glass down, staring at it for a second, allowing the taste to settle in his mouth. "And that had no alcohol in it," he pointed out, giving Chloe a confused look. "What is wrong with you two?"

Both women looked at each other before breaking out into laughter. "Bitter drink for my bitter soul," Maze got out between laughing spells, calming herself down as she was signaled by someone on the opposite end of the bar.

"I'm glad my discomfort seems to amuse you, Professor," Lucifer huffed, rolling his tongue around in his mouth in apparent disproval for Maze's drink.

"It does a little," she admitted, winking at him before looking down at her phone, completely mortified. She had actually just winked at him. She was blaming on the alcohol coursing through her veins due to the heavy-handed bartender. The screen told her it was just barely 2100, and her old ass was already feeling like she could get in bed. After ensuring that everything was fine at her daughter's sleepover, she slipped the phone back into her bag, resting it on top of the bar. Playing it cool, she dared to look back at him, but he was just casually sitting on the stool glancing at her in deep thought. "What?" she asked after his staring became slightly uncomfortable.

"Come with me," he requested, standing up for the stool and holding out his hand for her to take it. "I want to show you something." Chloe looked from his hand back to his face, raising her eyebrow at him in uncertainty. He could see her hesitation, and knew what it had to be about. "I won't take my clothes off this time," he assured her, switching his weight from one foot to the other. Behind the bar, Maze's mouth opened and her eyes widened, looking between the pair as if she were watching a dramatic scene out of a telenovela.

"Promise?" Chloe asked, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin, considering taking his hand at his answer. She reached her hand out, hovering it over his, watching his patience begin to wear thin in amusement.

"Yes, yes," he replied quickly, shaking his proffered hand to get her to take it. She placed her hand in his warm palm, his fingers enclosing her hand in his as she slid off the stool and started to follow him. "Not unless you ask me to, of course," he added, earning him a rightful punch to the arm with her free hand. She went to stop him, reaching for her bag sitting on the bar, but Maze grabbed it, sticking it into one of the cubbies behind it before nodding her head in Chloe's direction. The older woman smiled at her, worry in her eyes, but Maze watched her and Lucifer disappear behind the Employees Only doors next to the bar.

He kept hold of her hand as they navigated a dark, narrow hallway, passing by the occasional door. He didn't look back at her, just led them though, making sure she didn't trip over any raised wooden plank or scraped by a stray nail sticking out of the wall. At any other time, Chloe would have been concerned by a man bringing her down a creepy, dark hall, but no such feeling arose. She felt perfectly safe, and she wondered if that should concern her.

"Lucifer, where are we going?" she whispered, trying to keep herself from stumbling on the uneven ground in her heels, having a lack of practice walking in them.

"Why are you whispering?" he answered back, his voice only slightly louder than hers. He held her hand behind his back, almost resting on his lumbar region as they slowly walked through the hall.

"I don't know, it's just what you do in small, dark places," she responded, still in a whisper. She could hear him chuckle under his breath, but he didn't joke about it. Instead, he walked a few more steps before stopping in front of a door. Once she was right next to him, he opened the door, quickly turning on the light by the switch on the inside of the room. Chloe lifted her free hand to cover her eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden increase of light.

"So this club is actually pretty old, and was around during your unfortunate prohibition era," Lucifer narrated, releasing her hand so she could look around the medium-sized room, a small bar on the opposite side from the door. Chloe turned 360 degrees, making small steps in her heels as she took in the entire room. There wasn't much in it aside from the almost miniature bar, a few bar stools, a few wooden chairs, and file boxes.

"It's a historical landmark?" she asked, having dealt with a few issues regarding bulldozers and protesters at a few sites until the status had been verified.

"Yeah, and there's an interesting piece of history in this room," he suggested, stepping closer to her and bending down to get to her level. She raised her eyebrows at him, looking around the room for the possible artifact he could be talking about. Without another word, Lucifer walked over and grabbed one of the small wooden chairs by the bar. There was some obvious wear and tear, as well as a few nicks and dents that covered the cracking wood.

"A chair?" she questioned, not really taking him seriously. He held his hands firmly on the back of the chair, leaning down to do so. She noticed the way he seemed to get wider in this stance, and she shook her head of the (probable) alcohol-induced thoughts of him leaning over her like that.

"Not just any chair, Professor," he started, smirking at her disbelief in the historical relevance. "Take note of the damage done to the seat," he stated, pointing towards the dented seat, scattered with chips and stained a darker color. He watched her study the chair, her head cocking to the side when she recognized what could have caused the damage.

"Someone shot the chair?" she inquired, walking forward and bending down to take a closer look at the seat. She could tell it had been shot, but a smaller caliber gun, but it was damaged, almost as if something had slowed the bullet down before hitting the chair.

"Allegedly, Al Capone shot a poor man in the balls whilst sitting in this chair," Lucifer explained, completely satisfied when Chloe's expression lightened in excitement.

"Allegedly?" she questioned, again, scrunching up her nose at the insinuation of it not being proven, although she still looked very pleased. "Still pretty cool," she added, examining the chair closely one more time before leaning back up to her proper posture. She subconsciously smoothed down her dress, pulling the hem down slightly after it had risen up.

Lucifer smiled at her, happy that she had found this room to be, at the very least, a bit interesting. He watched as she started to walk around, examining the bar stools and walking behind the bar as if looking for clues to other historical phenomena that could have taken place. It was a bit of history about a time when people relished in illegal activity, while making sure it didn't affect anyone else. It was a much simpler time, when wanting to have a good time didn't involve letting other people get hurt. With his family's involvement in the darker side of humanity, he knew firsthand how power could distort your view, seeing others as only pawns to be used for your gain.

Chloe explored a little longer, every now and then turning to look at Lucifer just standing in the middle, lost in thought. When she was done, she slowly approached him, reaching out and touching his arm just below his elbow. The small gesture seemed to shake him from his thoughts, and he gave her a small, saddened smile. He couldn't help but stare at the beauty in front of him; the woman with a sad secret hidden behind her happy eyes. A woman that seemed to have walls built up, much like himself, and had no one who could tear them down. He felt as if he could, having climbed up the wall only to lose his footing and fall back down. He knew she could break his walls if she tried to, but she had hardly ever done more than brush her fingers over the rough surface and back away when she felt the material start to crumble.

"Can I show you something else?" he asked, this time, his voice a quiet whisper. He was a little nervous about what he wanted to show her. It was something from when he first came to America after leaving home. After having been beaten and cast out like disappointment he was to his family.

"Yeah," she replied softly, one corner of her mouth turning up in a short smile. His demeanor had suddenly changed, and he had gone from confident to caution in less than a second. She could see the mild hesitation as he walked past her towards the door, but he also looked determined. As if he were trying to prove something to himself, not just her. She followed him out of the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind her. Out in the hallway, Lucifer walked a few feet further down, turning towards a door on the opposite side of the hall.

He waited for Chloe to get closer before he slowly opened the door. He was holding his breath as he turned on the light, letting her walk inside before following her, leaving the door slightly ajar. Once inside, Chloe could see it was smaller than the last room, an old twin-sized bed was pushed against one wall, the other wall was covered with more filing boxes and cabinets. She looked around the room again, searching for anything she might have missed the first couple of times. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at Lucifer standing by the door behind her. He looked a little nervous, but other than that, just acted more reserved than he had in the other room.

"Are you about to tell me someone died in here?" she joked, turning completely to face him. He chuckled at her question, leaning back against the wall behind him.

"No," he responded, the smile slightly fading from his lips. "I used to stay in here, when I first came to America," he added, his eyes darting to the bed behind her before returning to her eyes. He stood, waiting for her to look confused, but she remained stoic, her lips parting the slightest bit as she considered the room around them. "You see, when I was 22, I had a huge fall-out with my family and was no longer welcome, so I had to leave, and go somewhere far away."

Chloe listened to him tell a small piece of his life story while standing in the room, barely larger than a closet, where he used to stay. She watched as he nervously tapped the wall behind him with his fingers, occasionally pulling at her ear as he spoke. He was completely serious, a state in which she hardly ever saw him in. The words about his family seemed to be superficial, as if the falling-out was just a paper cut to the actual wound.

"I had remembered that someone told me that if you want to rebel, you go to L.A., so I did just that. I hoped on a plane, with nothing but an extra change of clothes and a little bit of cash." He tucked his twitching hands into his pockets, trying to still his nerves as he continued the watered-down version of his story. "When I landed, Maze was the first person I met, after she literally ran into me chasing after a bounty." He laughed at his words as he remembered the event as if it had just happened. He finally looked up, seeing that Chloe had walked a little closer to him, her arms folded across her stomach and her eyes roaming over his features. She was listening intently, and genuinely seemed interesting in learning something about him.

"Maze and I hit it off, and to make a long story short, she set me up with the owners of this place, and they gave me a job, and a place to stay," he said, pulling a hand out of his pocket to waive it in the air. "So this room was my first chance at the American Dream all of you speak so highly about." He only smiled when he saw the corners of her mouth turn up. He hoped she could tell he had opened up, regardless of the lack of substance in his storytelling. It was something no one but Maze and the owners knew about, and now she was part of that small group.

She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, searching for the right words to say. Lucifer had just opened himself up to her, provided her with a little snippet of his life, his past, which seemed to not be an easy topic for him to discuss. He no longer looked nervous, more anxious in waiting for her to respond to his narration. There was so much she could say, but she was afraid to go deep, afraid of what she might allow herself to feel.

"So, who gave you that wise advice about rebelling?" she asked sarcastically, lowering her face so she had to look up at him through thick lashes. She kept her question light on purpose, knowing that he could easily fall onto witty conversation over heavy discussion.

He wondered how someone could smile so beautifully all the time, but he stopped himself from being distracted by her lips. "A porn star," he admitted shamelessly, laughing at Chloe's taken-aback expression. "It sounded right at the time," he added in defense, pushing himself off of the wall to stand firmly in front of her. "Besides, it's probably the best advice I've ever received.

Her smile faded slightly and her eyes widened, watching as he stood directly in front of her, just far enough away to not touch. "How so?" she asked softly, holding his gaze as he looked down at her, his neck just a few inches away from her face, thanks to the extra height of her shoes.

"Well, I would have never experienced freedom like I have here," he stated carefully, taking a half step closer to her. She took a sharp intake of breath as his hip gently brushed her arms, still crossed over her stomach. She wondered what he meant by freedom, but he was too close for her to focus on his words. She could feel his breath against her face, feel the warmth of his body washing over her skin, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes. She finally exhaled as he bent his head down closer to her, but he made no other move.

"And, I would have never met you." He lifted his hand, caressing her chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilted her face up towards his. She closed her eyes and let the moment take her as she felt his lips settle on top of hers timidly. She didn't resist, and she really didn't want to. The softness behind the kiss had her desperate for more. She wanted to feel and taste more, but neither made a move to deepen anything. He opened his mouth just enough to pull her bottom lip between his own, sucking her skin gently before releasing it with a shuddering breath. He pressed his forehead against hers, and she looked up to find his dark eyes looking into her light ones. He needed it even more than she did. She leaned up as far as she could and kissed him gently but firmly.

The only sounds in the air were shaky breaths and the slow smacking of lips as they both sighed the release of built-up tension into each other's mouths. His lips moved slowly over hers, slanting with her mouth as she parted her lips to let his tongue slip in behind her teeth. The wet muscle curved behind her top row of teeth, making contact with her tongue and tasting her. She tasted better than he had imagined in the multiple times he had pleasured himself to her image. She was sweet and fruity, her warmth matching his own.

When one of his hands held on to the back of her head through her hair, the other cupping the side of her face to deepen the kiss, she started to smell an industrial scent, one that hadn't been there moments before. The scent slowly increased with every bit of pressure she felt from his fingers; a damp mildew forming in her olfactory senses. She could feel her heart rate start to rise as he gently turned them around so she now had her back to the wall. As his lips left her mouth, tracing the line of her jaw and working their way along her pulse point, the coloring in the room changed from the soft yellow and tan of the room to the dark grey and blue of concrete and metal under moonlight.

She placed her hands on the front of his arms, gripping his biceps as the hand in hair tugged her tresses, forcing her head back and exposing her throat for his teeth to scrape down. She swallowed thickly, both arousal and panic fighting for dominance in her mind as she tried to focus on what was happening at the current moment. She could feel the tickle of his stubble along the delicate skin of her neck and she gasped when she felt his tongue dip into the hollow at the base of her throat. A quiet groan escaped his chest at her sound, moving his hand away from her face, dragging it down her back to rest behind her hip.

The softer sounds of their breath and clothes rubbing together were rapidly muffled by the echoing of concrete and the grunts of a violent man shoving her broken jaw into the ground with a sweaty, hairy hand as he wrenched her jeans down over her hips with the other. Her eyes flew open and slight relief flooded through her veins at the site of Lucifer and the room they were in. Her grip on his arms tightened as she tried to ground herself and stop the onslaught of painful memories. She tried to focus on the way his muscles flexed under her palms, the heat of his skin through the shirt, and the way his breath felt going up her neck before he planted his mouth of hers again.

His actions were stronger now; his kiss was more energetic, his hands roaming and squeezing her body in all of the right places. She wanted it, she wanted to feel him all over her, but the undying fear kept bubbling over the surface, conflicting with her desire in heated battle. When she felt Lucifer's hips grind into hers, pushing her into the wall, the scent of him and their surroundings completely faded from her consciousness. She was back on the moonlit cement, the smell of sweat and dirt filling her nose and the taste of blood coating her mouth. Heavy hands were pressing onto her chest and throat, holding her down and controlling her airway as thick, abusive hips rut into her relentlessly. She no longer heard the erotic gasps of a younger man, instead the sickening grunts and groans of her attacker infiltrated her eardrums. The only thing she wanted was to be out of there, to never have to be held down like that, to never have force themselves inside her body ever again. To never feel as violated and dirty as she had felt that night.

In the distance, she could hear a frantic voice calling her name as her mind started to fade away from her memory and swam back to the present. She felt strong, gentle hands on her sides, not like the hands that had stripped her of her dignity. Slowly, a handsome face appeared through the haze, his dark eyes wide with worry. She could feel her eyes burning, but knew that no tears had fallen, and she could feel her body shaking. It was all wrong, she shouldn't be shaking for this reason, she should be shaking from Lucifer's hands undoing her tension. Shamefully, she looked up at him just as he lifted his hands to cup her face. His thumbs stroked her cheeks reassuringly, just as he had done the night she went out with Ella.

She saw legitimate concern in his features, and she felt guilty for that. He shouldn't be worried. He shouldn't have been in this situation to begin with. She should have never agreed to go out with him that night. She had crossed a boundary she never thought she would cross, and now she had led him on. She wasn't just a broken woman, unable to be touched by men, she was someone that had allowed her feelings get control over her mind, and he would suffer for her transgression.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked her softly, brushing hair behind her ear. He had realized that something wasn't right when he had pressed their bodies closer. She had frozen, her hands gripping his arms until her knuckles were white. Her eyes were open, but she was looking past him and out into a void. He couldn't get her attention, and when she had started to shake, he had had no idea what to do. Calling her name and holding her tightly seemed to bring her back to reality.

She could feel her lips trembling as she opened her mouth to answer him, but nothing came out. She focused on controlling her breathing, dampening her panic and calming her nerves. When she felt sure enough her voice would actually work, she answered him. "I can't do this, I'm sorry. I have to go," she blurted out, trying to get out of his hold without having to look back at him.

"Wait, what did I do?" he questioned, keeping his voice as gentle as he could. She had kissed him back, he was sure of it. She had held on to him, too, and she had even initiated her own kiss. "I thought… you seemed to want it too," he added, more to himself than to Chloe. She watched him back away slowly, looking at her as if he had been wrong.

"This was a mistake," she stated, taking a deep breath once her lungs seemed to want to listen to her again. "I shouldn't have let that happen." She dared to look up at him, and what she found nearly tore her open. He had backed farther away, his shoulders rounding in on his body, his hands limp by his sides, and his eyes wide with shame. He looked so hurt by her words, a familiar pain he seemed to feel often. When his eyes met hers, they shared a moment of mutual sorrow for something neither of them could come clean about. "I'm sorry," she whispered before leaving him in the room.

She walked back down the dark hallway, tripping a few times over raised board without Lucifer to guide her. Once she made it back out to the club, she walked over to the bar and stood in the spot she had been sitting in less than half an hour earlier. Maze finished pouring a drink for a woman before walking back over to Chloe, looking around for Lucifer.

"Hey, where's Lu-," Maze started to ask, but what interrupted by Chloe.

"I have to go," she told the other woman as plainly as possible. She wasn't in the mood to explain what had happened, she was too ashamed by her reaction.

"Okay," Maze drawled out, reaching down and pulling Chloe's bag out of the cubby. She handed it over and watched as Chloe slung it over her shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to go," Chloe lied, starting to walk towards the door she came in through. "It was nice seeing you again," she called back to her, disappearing into the small crowds of people and out into the fresh, smoke-free air. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cleaner air filter out the negativity swimming in her body. She suddenly felt very tired from the panic attack she had and wanted nothing more than to go home, scrub away the memories in a too-hot shower, and get into her bed and sleep. She walked over the valet, handing the boy her ticket, and waited for her car. Her body had stopped shaking, even with the cool breeze blowing through her hair, and she took that as a good sign.

When she got into her car, the temperature set perfectly for her, she drove away from _The Silver City_, away from a problem she wasn't sure how she would sort out, away from a guy she was dangerously attracted to, and away from temptation that seemed to spur her worst nightmare. She would have to deal with it once she got home, for now, she just needed to focus on driving and ignoring the slick dampness between her thighs.

* * *

Her reaction was not at all the few that he had expected. He had prepared himself for a hard slap on his cheek, he had prepared himself for her to yell at him, and he had prepared himself for her to willingly accept his move. What he had not expected was for her to kiss him back and then shudder away in fear. He wracked his brain for what he could have done to frighten her. The moment had been soft and inviting, he hadn't thrown himself at her and he hadn't let himself get carried away. He went slow, at her speed, and he felt like he gave her plenty of opportunity to stop it. All of that, and she froze on the spot, sheer panic evident in her wide, blue eyes. Her reaction was so strong, it had scared him.

Even with that, he had been okay with. Once she seemed to come back to him and recognize him, he felt like they were okay. And then she called it a mistake. Those words coming from her soft, just-kissed pink lips had been worse than any injury he had ever endured. How could anything as wonderful and meaningful as that have been a mistake? The small gasps she made, the goosebumps on her skin that he felt; how was any of that wrong? He had never felt anything like that, not even with Eve.

After she walked away, he could do nothing but stand there, hurt and ashamed, trying to control the raging hard-on he had in his trousers. His arousal had been instantaneous the moment her lips parted for him. He had been foolish to think he had the right to do any of that. He had been foolish to assume her consensual behavior was just that. Now, he wasn't sure if she would ever want to see him again, let alone work with him. He had, possibly, just fucked up his chance of getting to know her and winning her over.

He stormed out of his old quarters and back out into the club. He walked straight behind the bar, looking through the multiple bottles lined up until he found the one he wanted, popping off the slow-pour mechanism and tossing it to the ground. He brought the bottle of amber liquid up to his lips as Maze walked into his field of vision.

"What the hell happened?" she question him, her voice raising over the ambient chatter of the customers. He could see concern in her eyes, but it wasn't for him. He wondered if Chloe had been crying when she left.

"I don't want to talk about it," he explained, gulping down large swallows and letting the burn travel down to his stomach. It was times like these he wished alcohol could take an immediate effect.

"Oh, that's right," Maze exclaimed sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "You prefer to just drink your problems away." She raised her eyebrow at him, knowing he was upset about something. She wished she knew how to get him to talk to her before he drank and drugged himself into oblivion. She couldn't even remember the number of times she'd had to force booze and pills back up before he overdosed on them. That's when he'd finally talk to her, on the floor of whatever bathroom they could get to.

Lucifer did nothing but take another swig from the bottle, a fake smirk spreading over his lips. He watched his friend walk away from him, rolling her eyes as she turned. No matter what, he knew she would be around to help him pick up this pieces of his mind and soul before he had to be a normal human again. At this point, he wasn't sure he cared. The night was still pretty young, he had only been with the Professor in the bowels of the club for twenty minutes, and he still had over half his shift ahead of him. Bottle in hand, he stalked back over to the large instrument towards the center of the room, a few of the patrons eager to hear more.

He could still taste the sweet citrus from her lips on his tongue as he played the piano mindlessly, just letting his hands flow over the keys in a depressingly dark tune that fit his mood. He'd brushed off multiple passes by a few older women, not in the disposition to get down on his knees and delicately take care of their needs. He was in the mood to throw someone around, have his way with them and make them take all of his self-loathing in the form of a proper rough fuck.

As if by divine intervention, he felt his phone buzz against the top of his thigh. For a split second, he hoped it was Chloe, but he knew better than to think that. He pulled it out and was only slightly surprised by the message he received. It was only just after 2200, he would have plenty of time to take care of this and still come back and finish the shift. Maze would get over it, eventually. He put his phone back in his pocket before standing, leaving the bottle on top of the instrument before walking towards the bar. He stood behind a middle-aged couple to get her attention, which she gave him reluctantly.

"I have something I have to take care of," he started, reaching for his keys in his other pocket. "I'll be back in an hour, two hours tops." He went to leave, but Maze leaned over the bar to stop him.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, reaching out to grab his arm at the elbow. She held his stare for a second before he pulled his arm out of her grasp.

"I have to go take care of something. I will be back," he stated again, this time walking straight out of the doors towards the back of the building where staff parked. He could feel the liquor coursing through his body, but he was a well-practiced tipsy driver, and he knew his limits. He wasn't quite there yet. The roar of the engine vibrated his entire body, buzzing numbed nerve endings back to life like an electrical shock. No matter how serendipitous the situation was, he wasn't going to complain about being able to fix some of his problems that night: his need to ease ache of rejection in his chest and the throbbing in his pants.

* * *

As he walked towards the Criminal Justice building, he wondered why Charlotte was still on campus this late, on a weekend. He didn't ponder on it too long, deciding he didn't really care for the reason, he just came when called. As her message said, the door was unlocked and he was able to get inside and climb the stairs of the empty building with ease. When he approached her office, he found the door was pulled against the frame, but wasn't closed. He could hear two people talking, a woman and a man, on the other side of the door. He pushed it open slowly before walking inside, cautiously observing the two people in the room.

"Lucifer, so good of you to make it," Charlotte grinned from behind her desk. The man in the chair parted his mouth, his tongue running along the edge of his top teeth, taking in the appearance of the slightly younger man at the door.

"Don't have much of a choice, now, do I?" he asked sarcastically. He stepped into her office more, closing the door behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting whatever her request of him was.

"We all have a choice," Charlotte teased, leaning onto her elbows that were resting on the desk. "We just have to be willing to accept the consequences." She gave Lucifer a knowing grin, fully aware of what his consequences would be if he didn't come. With a final smile, she glanced at the other man in the room before returning her gaze to Lucifer. She could see both men measuring the other, just like men did when they first met, and excitement buzzed throughout her body.

"This is Professor Andrews," Charlotte introduced, smiling between the two men as she stood and walked towards Lucifer. "He's one of the new Law professors this year, and he's also the assistant coach for the boy's swim team." Her last statement came out like it should matter to Lucifer what this man was and what he did. He remained silent, slowly looking at the other man and Charlotte, waiting for someone to say something or explain what he was doing there.

Charlotte stood directly in front of him, reaching out her slender fingers and toying with the top button of Lucifer's shirt. "I've known Cole since he was just an eager and enthusiastic TA," she stated, running her hands along the span of his chest. "I helped him get his teaching position here, so we like to help each other out from time to time." Charlotte continued to talk as her hands wandered over Lucifer's torso as if he were her prized bull. "He just happened to overhear one of the boys talking about you in the locker room. Seems like he knew you pretty well." With that, Charlotte looked down, obviously eyeing Lucifer's crotch as a point to her words.

"I'm not in the mood to play games here," Lucifer spat, looking down at Charlotte's hands as they toyed with the top of his pants. "What am I doing here if you already have a toy?" He was beginning to lose his patience with the situation. He had expected to show up, fuck her brains out, and leave to go back to work, not to walk in here with company.

"You agreed to do anything I wanted when I called you, did you not?" she asked him, reluctantly pulling her hands away from him to return to her seat behind her desk.

"Yes, I'm aware, that's why I'm here," he stated, the frustration in his voice evident. He looked over at the man sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Cole was eyeing him carefully as if he were trying to memorize his features.

"Well, with my new knowledge on your indiscriminant sex life, I figured you might want to meet my dear friend, here." Charlotte smirked up at him from her seat, glancing at Cole before returning her gaze to the man standing near the door.

Lucifer tilted his chin up, his jaw jutting out in revelation as his eyes narrowed in the woman's direction. "So what, you thought you could just say, 'here, you fuck men, fuck this one, too,'?" He eyed the other man, noticing that he was attractive, early thirties, at the most, and appeared to be only a few inches shorter than him. He had light brown hair, hazel eyes, and sun-tanned skin. His build was nice, sturdy, much like the swimmers he helped coach. With a body like that, Lucifer was sure he could take a good amount of force. That was an appealing thought, in his current state of unsettlement.

"Pretty much," Charlotte responded shamelessly. "I mean, look at the two of you. Who wouldn't want to watch that?" Her question was rhetorical, Lucifer knew that, and he had to hand it to her, the woman unabashedly expressed whatever she wanted, he knew that first hand. He turned his gaze towards Cole, taking in the anticipatory expression in his eyes. He could tell that he wanted it, he was more than willing to have sex with him right now. Who was he kidding? He was ready to pound into anything remotely human at this point. It would be a brief reprieve from the torture his mind was inflicting on him. A break from hearing Chloe's voice telling him it was a mistake.

"You called me here to give you your own personalized porn performance?" he questioned, obvious frustration in his tone. "Tell me, is it the watching or directing that gets you all hot and bothered?" He took his hounds out of his pockets and folded his arms over his chest, getting an interested reaction out of the other man in the room.

"Really? You're going to judge me? Remember, you're the one who agreed to this little arrangement just so you could try and fuck you teacher." Her tone remained flat, as if she knew she had won the argument before he could even answer. With that, he resigned any come-back he had at the ready. She was right. He had no room to make any judgments or sit on any moral high-ground. He was just as bad as she was, worse even. At least he was in the know of her intentions.

Lucifer studied the other man. He could tell he wanted him, he could see it in the way his eyes were wide, his lips parted, and his chest rising and falling in deep breaths. The man wanted him, deeply desired his physical touch, and he liked that. He had been rejected once that night, he wasn't about to let an opportunity for physical contact to go to waste, not when he could satisfy Charlotte's end of the bargain, as well. Two birds with one _hard _stone.

"Okay, I'll play," he agreed, smiling at the professor sitting in the chair. He let his tongue run along his bottom lip as he checked him out from his seated position. When he made eye contact with the man again, he was all but jumping up to attack.

"I guess the remaining question is, who's fucking who?" Charlotte raised her eyebrow in their direction. She brought her long legs up and propped them on the desk, crossing at the knee. It was clear that she was done with their discussion, wanting to move on with what she called him over to do.

Lucifer turned his head to look at her, chuckling with a huff while giving her an _as if_ expression. "Oh, I think Professor Andrews already knows the answer to that," he chimed, turning to smirk at the man in front of him. "Don't you?" Lucifer knew it was pretty clear. It wasn't just his foul mood exuberating an air of dominance, it was the atmosphere set by both men. Cole probably dominated his fair share of smaller men, but Lucifer wasn't a man to submit. He knew Cole could sense that just as much as he knew the man would easily, and willingly, bend over for him.

Cole rose from his seat slowly, keeping his eyes on Lucifer and swallowing thickly. "Yes," he replied, voice strong and sure. Lucifer watched him lick his lips, the five o' clock shadow on his face was prominent around the soft pink of his lips. He noticed they were dressed similarly, only Cole didn't have a waistcoat. He knew it probably looked good from Charlotte's view; just like a purposeful wardrobe match in a porn. Lucifer made the first move, taking the final step towards him and capturing his lips with his own. He immediately forced his tongue inside Cole's mouth as he wrapped his hand behind the man's neck. Cole's hands landed on his chest, squeezing and pulling at the material of his shirt as he let Lucifer commanding tongue dominate his mouth.

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked after he pulled away from his face. The other man was already breathing hard, nodding his reply as he tried to lean in for another kiss. Lucifer shook his head with a smirk, humming in disproval as Cole tried to take what he wanted. "I need to ask you something first," he whispered against the man's ear. He heard him whine a little, but he started to melt under Lucifer's grip, quickly learning who was in charge. Lucifer ran his free hand down Cole's body, feeling the soft curves of tensing muscle under his fingertips. He groaned and he could feel the other man's cock growing against his hip.

"You can say I'm not in the best of moods, and all I really want to do is fuck you through any surface I decide to throw you on. How does that sound?" He drug his hand lower, towing with the top of Cole's pants, tugging on the material and forcing their hips closer together. Lucifer's own erection was pressing into the other man's hip along his side and Cole ground into it.

"Sounds great," the other man moaned, a pleased smile forming on his lips. His hands were rubbing along Lucifer's abs and sides, trying to pull him closer. Lucifer moved the hand on Cole's neck up into his hair, tugging his head back and grabbing one of his wrists with his free hand. Cole bit his lower lip with a grunt, peering at Lucifer through slanted eyes.

"You're okay with me not playing nice?" Lucifer asked seductively in his ear, letting his teeth graze along the lobe. He felt Cole's cock throb against him, and he knew he had him. He wondered if Charlotte was enjoying this, or if she was more looking forward to the main event. Honestly, he didn't care. He was going to take what he could from this main, ring him out, and leave him breathless and aching.

"Oh, God, yes," Cole groaned out through clenched teeth. He tried to fight Lucifer's hold, but gave up quickly. If anyone could set fire when need, he would have done it.

"Mmm, that's what I wanted to hear," he moaned, taking his hand away from the man's pants and gripping his collar tightly. "How bad do you want it?" He could feel Cole desperately trying to lean forward to feel his lips again, but he wouldn't allow it. He needed his lips somewhere else.

"So fucking bad," he grunted, staring at Lucifer through his lashes. He could see the animalistic drive in the other man, and he knew that this was going to be good. He would definitely be able to release some tension here.

"Show me," Lucifer demanded, lifting his hands and pressing on the man's shoulders, pushing he down to his knees. Cole knew what to do and he immediately went to work on the belt and button before him. Lucifer felt him pull down the zipper, opening his slacks and releasing his member from the confines of fabric. Cole was surprised by the lack of underwear, but he eagerly took the waiting member in hand, squeezing firmly. Lucifer raised in eyebrow down at him, humming his appreciation as the other man admired his girth and length as if he were looking at the statue of David.

He held eye contact with the woman in the chair, a smug expression on his features as the other man continued to tease him. Lucifer's eyes fluttered and lips parted when Cole's mouth took him in and he smirked at Charlotte. If she wanted a show, he would certainly deliver one. He started to work on the buttons of his shirt, slowly going down his body and letting his hips match the movements of the mouth on his cock. He tossed his shirt behind him and toed out of his shoes. He bent at his hips, his torso leaning over the other man's head, and stepped out of his pants and socks. Cole pushed them away before running his hands up Lucifer's thighs and resting them along his hips.

He moaned around his cock and Lucifer held on to his hair as he started to thrust into his mouth. Out of curiosity, he didn't let him pull back, instead, he shoved himself deeper into his mouth, pushing his head farther down until he felt his throat give way and he slid down it completely. He groaned loudly as he pulled the other man's head away, growling as Cole managed to cough with a smile on his face. Not wanting to wait any more, Lucifer pulled him up and went for his pants. The lighter-haired man was admiring Lucifer's naked frame as his pants were roughly pushed down his hips. Before letting them fall down, Cole reached into his pocket and handed Lucifer a small foil packet.

"Take your clothes off," Lucifer ordered, taking the foil square from him and pushing him back with a hand to the center of his chest. He watched the other man do was he was told, kicking out of his shoes and pants while unbuttoning his shirt in a rush of excitement. He took note of the lean frame the other man had, the striations of well-conditioned muscles rippled under skin, and he appreciated the athleticism. It would make this part more fun; more of a challenge. He slid the latex over his spit-covered cock, stretching the rubber over him while Cole watched.

Once the man was just as undressed as he was, Lucifer walked over to him and pushed him back towards the desk. The back of Cole's legs his the side of the desk and Lucifer roughly spun him around, pushing his back down so his chest and stomach were flat against the document-covered wood. Lucifer had purposefully put them here, right in front of Charlotte so she had a very up-close-and-personal view of her two-man show. Cole moaned from his position, his hips rutting in anticipation when he felt Lucifer stand behind him. The taller man grabbed the firm globes in front of him, spreading them as he dropped down to his knees. Lucifer ran his tongue over the puckered ring, grunting as Cole nearly whined his appreciation.

He let his tongue ready the tight hole, spitting on the tight hole for lubrication before standing and lining himself up. Their similar height made this position very easy, his eager hole right where Lucifer needed it. He held Cole's hip with one hand, the other was holding the base of his cock as he started to press at the entrance. He could feel Cole's body tense in anticipation of penetration, but he didn't move or pull away. Lucifer greatly appreciated the man's willingness to take it without hesitation.

With slow, steady pressure, Lucifer pushed himself into the tight ring of muscle, watching as the other man slammed his fist into the desk, but didn't tell him to stop. Lucifer let the drag of muscle around him occupy his senses as he bottomed out, pressing all he could into him. He held the other man steady with one hand gripping the top of his shoulder and the other pressing his torso down on the desk. His hips were off, giving Cole the opportunity to stroke himself while being fucked. Lucifer was relentless, but he wasn't evil.

He furiously pounded into him, the desk jolting with each thrust as he put every ounce of his frustration and hurt into his actions. He didn't want this taking too long, he needed to get back, but he wanted to feel the exertion, feel the thick wall of muscle around his cock finally relax only to clamp down around him in orgasm. He drove into the other man without worry of his feelings or wellbeing, he was clearly enjoying himself, stroking his cock with the same vigor Lucifer was putting into his thrusts. It was distracting and physical; everything he needed to quiet his head and snuff out the feelings and let someone else feel them for a while.

Lucifer turned his head slightly to look at Charlotte. He could see her pupils dilated in arousal, her lips wet from being licked, and her cheeks slightly flushed. She was pleased with their performance, and it sickened him that he felt good about that. He moved his gaze away, focusing on the physical sensations he could feel. The fluttering around his cock signaled him to Cole's impending release, and he was ready for him to cum so he could get the release he so desperately needed.

He changed his angle, leaning over the man's back and gripping his hair tightly. He let his forearm rest between his shoulder blades as the other gripped the desk, deepening and strengthening his thrusts. Cole cried out at the new angle, breathing heavy and hard as he continued to stroke himself in a furious rhythm. Lucifer watched as an endless spray of expletives left his mouth while his cum spurt out onto the side of the desk, rolling down, but not quite able to drip to the floor. With his ass clamped around him, Lucifer was able to force himself through the man's orgasm until he felt his own release spring from its coil.

With a loud growl, he emptied himself into the latex casing deep in the other man's ass, their sweat-covered bodies gliding against each other with little friction. The sounds of panting and movement were the only noise that could be heard. Lucifer pulled himself out, pulling off the condom and discarding it into the trash next to the desk. He watched Cole slowly lean up and turn around, but he didn't look him, instead he sought out his clothes. He wondered if Charlotte was pleased with their performance, but she wasn't saying anything either, and Lucifer wasn't wanting to fish for any compliments.

He put his clothes back on without saying a word, without even looking at the other people in the room. No one spoke as he slid his shoes on and made sure his keys were still in his pocket. He walked out of Charlotte's office at a steady pace, pulling the door to without so much as a glance back. He left the building and walked back towards the parking garage, the cool night air soothing his heated skin. He got back in his car and drove off back towards _The Silver City_. He knew Maze was going to be pissed, but he could handle that. Who knows, maybe she would throw something at him for leaving her hanging. All he knew was that his body only felt slightly less tight, but his mind was still just as twisted as it was before. He was nearly as relieved as he had hoped to be, and he feared no amount of alcohol or drug would help soothe the pain in his chest. But it wouldn't stop him from trying.

* * *

**A/N: Okay…. So? Happy? Haha. They finally kissed! I know some of you are like, "Jesus, finally!" It was planned to take a bit, but I hope you're not too sad about how it went. A bit angsty, yes, but I do hope you (maybe) enjoyed the end…. Maybe? Let me know what you thought. I'll try my best to not make you wait too long again ;) Until next time, dark ones….**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, all! I hope this wasn't too long of a wait! I do try to work on it when I can! I hope you like this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing it, and we pick up right where we left off in the last one. Un-beta'd, of course. Let's see the shenanigans that go on here... Enjoy!**

* * *

When Chloe got home that night, she texted Tammy to check on Trixie. She was informed that both girls were watching movies and eating popcorn, and she didn't need to worry. Happy to feel just some relief, she kicked off her heels and unzipped the side of her dress. By the time she made it to the second floor her dress was thrown to the ground, along with her underwear and bra. She turned the shower on, steam filling the small room as she stepped in and just let the scalding water cascade over her body. The discomfort was almost enough to keep her thoughts away from him, but he still flooded into her vision whenever she closed her eyes.

She cursed herself whenever she remembered the hurt in his eyes, the pure confusion of having no idea how he had messed up so badly. Then, stupidly, she had called it a mistake. She couldn't have imagined him to look even more torn, but he managed to do it when she had said those words. He had looked so young and fragile at that moment, and she had been the one to do that to him. Of course, she wasn't technically wrong. It was a mistake for them to share a kiss, but she didn't feel regretful of it at all. In fact, she had wanted it, wanted more. She had kissed him back, and that had surprised her. Nothing had felt wrong about their lips connecting, the only thing that felt wrong was the sensation of her attacker taking over Lucifer's form.

She secretly thanked her traumatic flashbacks for coming, because she wasn't sure what would have happened if they hadn't. Her haunting memories had saved her, this time, but they caused another's pain. Another regret crashed through her as water continued to sting her skin. She didn't even explain. She let him think that he had done something wrong, that he had fucked up, and then she had walked out. He didn't deserve that, she knew it. He had given her plenty of time to stop what he was doing, and she had even reciprocated. Let him turn their bodies so he could put her on the wall. She had tasted his lips and instantly caved, and that frightened her.

She owed him an apology, at least, she thought as she dried herself off. She wrapped the towel around her body and quickly walked downstairs to get her phone from where she left it on the table by the door. She pulled up his number as she walked back to her room, carefully sitting on her bed as she listened to the line ring. No answer, but when the choice to leave a voicemail popped up she chickened out. She hung up the moment she heard the beep, throwing her phone as if being near it would leave him a message. She groaned at how ridiculous she was being. She was a grown ass woman, goddamnit, she was plenty of years past the phase of being afraid of talking to a guy. But he was different.

Once she had put on some pajamas, she went downstairs and grabbed some aspirin and water, already preparing herself for a headache she might have from the few strong drinks Maze had poured her. She climbed into her bed, although she knew sleep was a joke at this point. So she stayed, tossing and turning, for hours. She would go between bouts of guilt and arousal as easily as turning on and off a light switch. One second she would be feeling horrible for allowing herself to get caught up in the moment, the next she would be sighing as she remembered the way his hands felt on her body. She remembered how his large, warm hands squeezed her waist, how his tall frame felt pressing her up against the wall, lightly and securely. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shake the memories from her mind of wanting it, wanting him to do more.

When it was evident that she was not going to be blessed with sleep, she threw the covers to the side and got out of the bed. Her eyes ached from trying to keep them closed for hours, hoping to convince her mind to slip into unconsciousness. She pulled on a pair of shorts and grabbed a sweatshirt to throw on over her top. If she couldn't manage to leave him a message, she would just have to be a big girl and go see him. She knew it probably wasn't a great idea, that it was, yet again, pushing the boundaries of appropriateness, but it needed to happen. She had fucked up, and she needed to make it right, before they could continue to work together, or be student-teacher. She had no idea when he got off of work, and wasn't sure if he already was off, but she remembered how to get to his apartment building. The plan was simple. Wait for him, or call him down, and talk, explain herself, then go home. Simple. Simple was good. She put her phone in her bag, slipping it over her shoulder before grabbing her keys and sliding on her flip flops. She got in her car under guise of the dark and drove towards her mission, where she would either be successful or fall into a trap. Deep down, she wished for the trap.

* * *

As he had assumed, Maze was not happy with him. She did, in fact, throw a full box of cocktail napkins at him upon his arrival. Without a word, she stormed away from him, leaving him to go back to his place at the piano and play for the remainder of his shift. If people had talked to him, he had ignored them, instead just focused on making it through the rest of the night. The couple of Vicodin he had popped on his way in taking their desired effect of reducing his surroundings into barely-there ambiance. The hours went by like nothing at that point, and 0300 came around sooner than he had expected. Saying nothing, he got up and left, letting Maze shoot daggers with her deep brown eyes as he walked past her.

The drive to his apartment had been relatively quiet. The only noises he heard were the quick whirs of other cars and the wind. He had wished for more noise, to drown out his memories of the way Chloe had gasped against his lips, or the way her delicate hands felt pressed to his chest. Apparently, fucking the other professor had been a short-lived reprieve; he could feel himself hardening in his pants at his thoughts, even with Vicodin in his system.

It had been disheartening to see that there were no open spots directly in front of his building. He had to park a few spaces down, but it wasn't too concerning. The short walk allowed him to study the figure he saw sitting on the steps close to the door. It was a woman, her arms crossed over her stomach and her legs obviously shaking. As he got closer, her couldn't help but have a sense of familiarity about her. When the woman looked up and noticed him, she immediately stood, looking nervous and conflicted, and that's when he recognized her. He stopped in his tracks, taking a second to clear his mind to make sure she was actually standing there and he wasn't fabricating her in his mind.

"Hi," she greeted softly, a small, fake smile on her lips as she abruptly stood when she noticed him. He watched her tanned legs straighten, roaming up her body to where the sweatshirt covered her frame.

"Hello, Professor," he responded, tilting his head up in confusion. "I would have thought it to be a little late for a visit from you," he admitted, watching as she took one step down closer to him. He took a few steps up, staying low enough to remain at eye level with her. She worried her lip between her teeth and he fought the urge to reach out and pull the soft skin out from her bite.

"I couldn't sleep," she stated wearily, giving him a sad shrug before averting her gaze to the hem of her sweatshirt. "I couldn't stop thinking about-" she started, cutting off when she looked up and saw a flash of hurt on his face. "Can we talk? Please?" she asked finally, pressing her lips together to help maintain her composure. She could tell he had been drinking, he looked tired, ruffled, and his eyes were starting to turn pink around the edges. It saddened her to know that she was, most likely, the cause for his appearance.

"You want to talk?" he questioned, his tone flat and body unmoving. He waited for her to nod before striding up the steps past her. He opened the door, standing by it and staring directly at her. "Come on."

"Can't we talk out here?" She bit her lip in worry, looking around her to make sure they were still alone.

"You're cold," he stated, pointing towards her with his free hand. He sighed heavily, looking into his building as if he wanted to just walk in and forget their conversation. "Besides, wouldn't want anyone to see you outside of my building at this hour, would we." He had a point, she knew that, but she wasn't nervous about being with him, she was worried that she wouldn't control herself. Rationality one, and she felt her body stepping forward through the door he held open. She let him lead the way towards the elevator, where they waited in silence until the ping, startling her, signaled its arrival.

She entered the small box quickly, shoving herself into a back corner and watched him enter leisurely. He observed her for a second before pressing the button for his floor. The ride was over before she realized it would be, and she followed him out into the hallway in silence. He turned to make sure she was still behind him before he approached a door, pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking it. He pushed the door open, looking at her expectantly as he waited for her to walk through. He watched her hesitate, her mouth opening to say something before she closed it. "I won't bite unless you ask you me," he assured her sardonically. The way his jaw moved and his tongue ran along his lip, just barely visible, made her stomach stir with want, but she quickly shoved it aside and walked into his apartment.

Her saw her very subtle reaction, and he couldn't help but feel a small amount of pride at that. He walked into his apartment right behind her, closing the door, but not locking it. Giving her an easy to way out, if she needed it. Chloe stood to the side, staying close to the door, while Lucifer walked directly into the kitchen to grab two glasses and pour drinks. He downed one glass, glanced in her direction, refilled the cup, and handed her the second drink. She took it from him but did not take a sip, instead was just thankful to have something to hold on to.

"I have to say, Professor, I do like you in shorts," he quipped, walking out of the kitchen, making a point to eye her bare legs before moving to lean against the wall adjacent to the door.

She knew he was trying to get into her head. He was upset, hurt, and possibly angry; of course he was going to try and derail her. "Lucifer, I feel like I owe you an explanation."

He laughed at that, nearly choking on his whiskey before regaining his serious manner. "You don't owe me anything," he spat out, almost as if her statement were ridiculous. "Besides, you saying it was a mistake and running out of the room was all the explanation I need." His last sentence stung, forcing her to wince. He noticed, and he didn't like the way that made him feel bad for saying it.

"It all came out wrong," she explained quickly, not wanting to give him time to counter her words. "It has nothing to do with you. It's my fault, I shouldn't have let us get into a situation where that could happen." She braved looking up in his direction and she watched as he pushed off the wall and slowly stalked towards her. She felt him stop behind her, body heat radiating against her chilled back, breath tickling the hair at the top of her head. His free hand hovered over upper arm, so very close but not touching, moving down towards her hip. When his hand was inches away from her thigh, he let his fingertips brush along the hem of her shorts before pulling them away. He bend his head down to breath in the scent of the skin around her neck, detecting traces of her soap and shampoo.

"You know, when you kissed me back and made that small, _wonderful_ noise, it didn't really seem like you thought it was a mistake." He let his nose barely run along her ear before he pulled away from her completely, walking back into the kitchen. He was being cruel, he knew she picked up on it, but he just couldn't stop himself.

"It was a mistake because it's against the rules," she explained, sighing in exacerbation. She hadn't realized it would be this difficult to try and talk to him. He questioned everything, making her doubt her own beliefs, making her want to throw caution to the wind.

"But it's not just the bloody rules, now is it?" he muttered, sloshing the amber liquid in his glass before downing the contents. He licked his lips and looked towards her, reigning in his feelings and drowning them with another glass.

"I mean, that's a big reason," she started, nervousness beginning to build. She didn't like where he was trying to take the conversation, having already brought up her sudden fear moments before.

He sighed again, setting his empty glass down on the counter harder than he had intended. "No, the 'big reason' was that you were afraid. Of what, hm? Of me? Did you think I would try to force you into something you didn't want to do?" he questioned, statement after statement coming out in the heat of the moment. He took a calming breath before pouring another drink with shaky hands.

Chloe shut her eyes for a moment, unsure of where to begin or how to explain it to him in a way that made sense. "No, Lucifer, it had nothing to do with you." She watched as he stared at her blankly, nodding before scoffing in her direction. He placed his hands on the counter in front of him, leaning into his arms and bowing his head. She could see the tension in him, long body of tight cord, ready to break with the quick tug of the line.

"Professor, trust me, I can recognize fear when people look at me with it in their eyes, and you were absolutely petrified by me touching you." He didn't turn to look at her as he spoke, choosing to remain in his position at the counter, staring out into his living room.

"I wasn't scared of you," she responded quietly, hands gripping her untouched drink for support. She gazed into the liquid, a calming pool of topaz and liquid fire.

He turned his head to look at her, stunned, a short chuckle erupted from his chest before he spoke. "Was there a ghost behind me or something, because I'm pretty sure I was the only other person there?" His sarcasm was thick as he turned away from her. He couldn't bear to watch as she stood there, struggling through half-truths, looking small and fragile.

"Lucifer, please, what else do you want to hear?" she pleaded, rubbing her eyes and highly considering drinking the whiskey he had given her.

"How about the truth?" he suggested, turning to walk towards her. He quickly got into her space, walking them back until she was standing with her back against the door. He stood at his full height, not trying to lower himself, not trying to appear smaller, hoping he could prove something to her. "If you weren't so afraid of me, then what was it?" He spoke quietly but firmly, breathing hard as he glared down at her, closing in around her space, expecting fear, but getting anger in return.

She inhaled sharply, the words falling past her lips before she could connive her mind against it. "I was raped, okay!" she yelled, clenching her jaw while starting directly up at him. "That attack you heard about on the news? Well, he didn't just kick the shit out of me, he raped me, and no one else knew about it, until now." She could feel tears beginning to sting her eyes, so she pushed him out of the way and walked further into his apartment. He let her move him, his back hitting the door behind him as he stood, frozen.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" His question was quiet and concerned. He wasn't sure why he had asked her that, but it was the only sentence his brain could form at that time. His mind was racing with all of the things he regretted doing with this new information. Things made sense now, and he felt horrible because of it.

She took a shaky breath, wiping her eyes quickly before she turned to face him, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. "I didn't want anyone to look at me the way you're looking at me now: with pity and disgust." With the last word out, a small sob rocked through her chest, and she quickly turned back around in shame. She really didn't want to cry in front of him. She played with the glass in her hands before tossing it back drinking it down in one gulp. The burn gave her something to focus on, so she decided to help herself to more.

He watched her pour herself another much-deserved drink. He wished he knew what to say, but he didn't even know how to explain his own feelings, let alone help someone else out with them. The only thing he knew about was finding physical comfort, but he wasn't sure if she needed that, or wanted it. Still unsure of the words to use, he pushed himself away from the door and slowly walked to her. She was standing with her hands on the counter, looking down into her refilled glass, considering if she just needed the entire bottle or not. When he was close enough, he reached out and grasped her arm, just below the shoulder. She tensed, but she did not pull away, and he took that as an invitation to continue. His other hand did the same, and he squeezed slightly to let her know he was there, and he heard her. He pressed himself against her, just barely, enough to feel contact but not add pressure.

She did not try to run, but she did not react, so after a few moments, we went to move, but one of her hands shot up from the counter and landed on his, keeping him in place. She wasn't sure why she found his touch so reassuring at this moment, but she did. She didn't want to question it, didn't want to feel bad for letting it feel good. She just wanted to stay in that moment, and let the heat from him warm her chilled bones and icy heart. With more confidence, he slowly wrapped his arms around her so his hands held on to her sides. She bent her forearms over his, her fingers clinging to wrists as she breathed and fell into his embrace. He lowered his head down so that his lips were next to her ear and the scent of milk and honey filled his nose.

"Professor, everything that has happened to you is not a reflection of who you are, nor is it a reflection of how other's see you," he stated softly into her ear, his lips just brushing the shell as he spoke. She felt a shiver run down that side of her body, a tingling sensation that made her gasp slightly. "I've seen things, I've done things, those same things have been done to me, but none of that defines me. I am not what I've done or what others have done. The same applies to you."

She took a moment to reflect on his words. He was very vague about his end, but she knew where he was coming from. She could appreciate that he could understand her experiences, yet, believed that those experiences, and how they changed her, did not make her into that. From the way he effortlessly fought, how anger could swell inside him at dangerous speeds, and the scars on his back, she knew he had not led a simple life. She knew nothing of what had happened to him, or even who he was before she met him, but she knew that those things were not who he was.

"So no, I don't look at you with pity, and definitely not with disgust, because of what you've gone through" he assured her when she had remained silent. "Who I see is a strong, unfairly beautiful woman, who is kind, despite the things she's been through. I see someone who is special, and, tragically, doesn't even know it." His arms tightened around her slightly, almost as if he were trying to hug the words into her. It was charming and adorable in every possible way.

Chloe closed her eyes, a warm smile turning the corners of her lips as she leaned back into him. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her, at least in the last few years. He always appeared so guarded, the rough callousness of his nature barely hidden by his poised appearance. How could someone like that say things the way he did? Surely it had to be the accent. Right? She felt safe, comforted, and warm in his arms, and allowed herself to accept those feelings and take them as they were. She turned her head, and he followed her lead, loosening his arms enough for her to turn around and face him.

He had to take a half-step back to be able to see her face, and he was so glad that he had pulled away from her. She was looking up at him through he lashes, a determined look in her eye, and her bottom lip was barely clinging between her teeth. His lips parted on their own accord, and he watched her stretch onto her tip toes and slowly press her lips against his. He felt her tongue run along his bottom lip before sliding into his mouth and gliding over his own. She sighed into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for better access. He gave it to her, he'd give anything to her at that point.

His hands went to her hips, squeezing the skin and bone there, slowly making his way under the hem of her sweatshirt and top. He groaned at the feel of her hot, smooth skin as she rolled her hips into his hands. He kissed her passionately, forgetting the softness of which she had started it. She made no complaint nor tried to run, she opened her mouth to him and toyed with the short hairs on the back of his neck. He was instantly, and totally, erect and dizzy from the sudden blood-rush south. Or was he dizzy from Chloe's lips sucking his tongue? She was the one intensifying the kiss, her lips more frantic and her hands rubbing the tops of his shoulders, going in past his collar to scratch his upper back.

The groan that escaped from his chest into her mouth made heat pool from her center, and she wanted nothing more than to get him to make that noise again. She held on to his lower lip with her teeth, scratching from between his shoulders up to his neck. She felt the shudder that ran down his body, and she tried to hide the smile it gave her. He hummed his approval against her jaw, lifting her up by her hips and setting her down on the counter behind her. She gasped in surprise, meeting his gaze for a brief second before his lips were back on her jaw, making their way down her neck. He nestled himself between her legs, sliding into the space she created perfectly. His lips felt so good on her neck, traveling all over her sensitive skin, teeth tugging at the collar of her sweatshirt.

Both of her hands found their way into his hair, and she used her grip as leverage to press his face harder against her neck. She was getting chills while feeling overheated all at the same time. The things his mouth could do to her neck made her groan when considering what it could do to other places on her body. She felt his hands touch the tops of her knees next to his hips, and he slowly slid them up the length of her thighs until his fingers just barely went under the hem of her shorts. His fingers inched higher and higher all while his tongue was tracing patterns along the front of her throat. Needing more, she yanked his head up, crashing her lips to his just as the tips of his fingers touched the line of her thong along the front of her hips. There was a brief pause before she wrapped her legs around his lower back and pulled him closer, and when they connected, she felt his hard length press into her wet folds, and even through their clothes she felt the coiling deep inside her begin to hum in need.

They inhaled shared air sharply, their lips opening and brushing against one another's as they realized what had happened. He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to take her right there on his kitchen counter, to shove aside the thin fabric covering her from him and slide himself into her wet haven. He almost went for it, his hands beginning to move more towards her mid-line, and then he remembered the other pair of lips he had been kissing hours before. No matter how badly he wanted this, he wouldn't let her have his second helpings. She deserved so much better than that. He respected her way more than that. Reluctantly, he pulled away, sighing in frustration at himself. He gripped the tops of her thighs, squeezing her flesh before stepping back to look at her. She had the sweetest shy smile on her lips, but she didn't seem disappointed that he had stopped. In fact, she looked grateful, as if she wouldn't have been able to stop it herself.

He chuckled to himself, looking up at his ceiling just to convince himself to move out from between her inviting thighs. "Would you like some coffee?" he asked, daring to take a look at her again. She raised her eyebrow and started to look around, he watched her look at a window, the dark blue of the very-early morning sky peeking out behind the curtain. When she nodded, he forced himself to push back from the counter and turn around, already missing the heat to his front. He opened the cabinet above his coffee pot and grabbed the necessary supplies and started scooping grounds into a filter. He heard Chloe slide off of the counter, but didn't hear her walk anywhere. He was relieved when she didn't immediately run for the door.

"I thought you were supposed to prefer tea," Chloe teased, scrunching her nose at him when he turned to look at her from over his shoulder. He fiddled around with the coffee pot for a moment longer before turning to face her completely.

"Professor, how dare you appropriate a cultural stereotype onto me," he scoffed in mock offense. "Tea is for later," he added, unable to hold in a chuckle. He looked over to see her giggling, and it had to be the cutest thing he'd seen in a while. He wished the moment didn't have to end. They were not student and teacher, professor and TA. They were just Lucifer and Chloe, and he really liked this dynamic. They stood in comfortable silence, just listening to the coffee percolate and the aroma stimulate their senses. She looked around her, checking out her surroundings like she hadn't really seen anything before now.

He watched her stare at the small table with two chairs on the opposite side of the kitchen. His little breakfast nook, where he rarely sat unless he needed to feed one or more guests. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and when she shot her gaze towards him, he gestured his hand in the direction of the table. Graciously, she smiled and made her way over there. He was, once again, graced with watching her shorts-clad ass and bare thighs walk away.

"How do you like it?" he asked, innocently enough, but there was an edge of _something_ in his tone. She looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, her mouth opening to answer before she closed it again, biting her tongue. "Your coffee. How do you like your coffee?" he reiterated, giving her a devious smile before pressing his lips together to hold off laughter. He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet above the coffee pot and started walking over towards his fridge.

She didn't even try to stop the blush that was creeping up from her neck to her cheeks. He knew exactly how it sounded, and he knew exactly what she had been thinking. "Cream and sugar," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him as he went to the fridge as if nothing had happened. She took a seat at the small table and watched as he took out a carton of half & half. When Chloe looked at the table, she noticed the small bowl of sugar cubes, and smiled. That was English, indeed. As any man would, instead of taking multiple trips, he decided to carry both mugs of coffee, the half & half, as well as a spoon precariously placed between two fingers.

He sat one mug down in front of her, as well as the spoon and creamer. He sat back with his own cup of goodness in his hands, watching as she added a heavy helping of cream and two cubes of sugar. Even though she looked at ease, he could see there was worry in the corners of her eyes, and the way she kept chewing on her bottom lip. She couldn't seem to make eye contact with him, and he knew, then, that it had to have something to do with their more recent kiss.

"You don't have to worry, Professor. I'm not going to tackle you in the hallways or anything," he jested, looking at her over the rim of his mug. "I don't expect that."

"What do you expect?" she asked quietly, finally looking into his dark-brown eyes. He appeared genuinely confused to her question, as if asking about his wants shouldn't even be in her mind.

"Well, nothing," he replied truthfully. He really didn't expect anything from her. Did he want something from her, with her? Yes, absolutely. Expecting those things was another question, and one he didn't feel comfortable considering. "So you can stop worrying. Nothing has to change."

She took a large sip of her coffee, mulling over his words in her head. Could he, so easily, pretend as if nothing had happened between them? Was she reading too much into what had happened at the club, and what had _just_ happened on his kitchen counter? Should that thought even upset her; the one that knew nothing should have happened in the first place? "Is that what you want? For nothing to change?" She didn't mean for her question to come out as accusatory or as sad as it did.

He smiled, lowering his face to look at her through his lashes while he took another sip of coffee. "I didn't say that," he insisted, raising an eyebrow at her. "All I mean is that it wouldn't stop me from enjoying your company, as your student and as your TA." It was true, even if he got no farther with her, he would still enjoy just being around her. He felt like a better man in her presence, even if that was a lie. "Balls' in your court, I do believe, is the correct American expression," he added with a smirk. She was happy he was bringing the wit back into their conversation. It always helped it stay light, regardless of the subject matter.

She laughed at that, a short, delicate laugh that only added to her perfectly feminine demeanor. He said she had the control, but he wanted nothing more than to drink the coffee from her mouth and have his way with her on this little table, on the couch, in his bed, and in his shower. He wanted to make those plump lips fall open for him, just so he could taste them. He pulled himself from his thoughts, needing to adjust his slacks to be more comfortable. He was constantly hard when he thought about her, and it took all of his energy to keep from having an obvious erection in her presence.

They sat and enjoyed their coffee with casual conversation. A lot of it had to do with some of the students in her class that she couldn't believe managed to graduate high school. He was able to fill her in on some of the drama going on in the class, but they brushed over the part of how he knew such privileged information. She was actually enjoying herself, the ease at which they could make small-talk was refreshing, and allowed some of the tension to ooze from her shoulders. It wasn't until she was able to see the sun rising through his curtains did she consider the need to go home.

"I think I should go," she admitted, almost reluctantly. She stared into her empty mug for a few moments before standing and grabbing her bag from the table. Lucifer stood as soon as she did, a slight look of disappointment on his face. "I need to get home before Trixie wakes up and it looks like you need some sleep." He huffed at that, even though he was sure he wasn't looking his best, at the moment. The Vicodin had worn off hours ago, and he felt as if he were dragging something behind him with every movement.

"I'm glad you came over to talk," he said, walking over towards the door. He didn't smile, but she could see the lightness in his features. She nodded her head and walked towards him, debating whether she was going to kiss him again or not. She knew she shouldn't for fear of not being able to stop, so she let her rationale take the lead. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and stood next to him at the door. "You'll let me know when you're in need of my services, again, yes?" he asked, just wanting to make sure that she was still on board with him being her assistant.

Chloe's eyes went wide; although he had told her he wanted to remain in her company, regardless of the physicality of their relationship, she was still surprised by his complete willingness to forget everything and move on. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to forget any of it. "Of course. Probably before class." She couldn't help but smile at the way his eyes lit up; like a child on Christmas. "Get some sleep, okay?" she requested, stepping out into the hall after he had opened the door.

"You, too," he called out softly, watching as she smiled over her shoulder at him while waiting for the elevator. He watched as she waited, unable to stop himself from observing the way she played with the cuffs of her sweatshirt, or how she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. He especially liked to watch her push fallen strands of hair behind her ear, a hint of annoyance on her face with how often she had to do it. They were all things he never noticed about anyone. He had never cared how people liked their coffee, or noticed the way certain topics of conversation lit up their eyes. These warm, comforting feelings hadn't been felt since Eve, but even then, he hadn't felt this controlled by them with her. The Professor held on to his very long leash, and she had no idea.

The moment he closed the door after she disappeared into the elevator, he was tearing his clothes off, unable to bare his undeniable need for release, again. She had left him unimaginably hard the entirety of her stay after that kiss on the kitchen counter. He was so worried that the blood painfully pumping through his member wouldn't make him try to fuck her into next week on top of his tiny breakfast table. He wasn't sure the table would be able to handle that. Although he didn't want to see her leave, her departure permitted him sweet relief from the pressure stretched tight in his loins. With his clothes gone and discarded from the kitchen to his bathroom, he turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up. He had a date with his hand under that steamy water.

When he stepped in, hot water cascaded down his chest and unto the rest of his front. He imagined that warm feeling as her hands exploring his body; light, delicate fingers tracing every curve and mark until satisfied all was touched. Unlike the other times he had thought about her, when he was alone and wasn't up for company, he had to imagine what she felt like. This time, he knew what her skin felt like under his hands, the way her body tensed and softened under his touch, and the little breathy moans she made against his mouth. His cock bounced in the air just thinking about it, and he couldn't wait any longer.

He dipped his head under the water, imagining her fingers trailing over his scalp and tangling in his short, black locks. Water poured down his face and over his lips, just as her soft, warm lips had brushed over his. He licked his lips, still tasting her on his tongue as he brought a hand up to brace himself against the shower wall, directly next to the showerhead. He closed his eyes, letting the hot water trail over his body as if it were her heated skin gliding against him. His free hand went straight to his aching member, wrapping around it firmly and squeezing. He bit his lip, holding back the small moan that almost escaped. He knew it wouldn't take long to finish, not while thinking about her armed with the knowledge of how she actually felt.

He inhaled sharply when he finally braved to move his hand. After having been hard for so long, he was almost sore to the touch, but it added to the overall sensations he was experiencing. He grit his teeth and found a steady rhythm while he let his imagination kick in. He thought back to their first kiss earlier in the night, before she run off. The first touch of their lips had been gentle and electrifying, and it had gone straight to his cock. He remembered the way her mouth had opened for him, and he was granted entry, the soft sounds she made as his hands held her hips. He moaned, his hand stopping at the head and squeezing. Going beyond memory, he imagined how those soft, plump lips of hers would feel around his cock, how they would suction on to him and wrap him in the hot embrace of her mouth.

His hand slid around his cock in a twisting motion, his grip loosening to the way he would imagine her feminine hands to feel on him, stroking him closer and closer to the edge. He pictured her on her knees in front of him, her perfect tits out and bouncing with every bob of her head. He thought about how he would reach down and squeeze one of her breasts, pinching the nipple and getting her to squeal around his cock. He started to stroke faster and stronger, his breathy moans and groans uncontrollable as he neared release. He bit into his lip thinking of the round curve of her ass pressing against his straining member, or how it would feel to squeeze he cheeks before lifting her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around him. His hand on the shower wall slipped, and that broke his concentration for a second. Even in his imagination she was destroying him.

Lucifer was so caught up in his fantasies that he didn't hear his door opening, the lock being turned by the spare key. Maze walked in, looking around and noticing signs of life. She saw the two coffee mugs and assumed her egotistical friend had brought company over. She could hear the shower running, and saw his clothes strewn around the apartment, but she couldn't see any other set of clothes, male or female. As she rounded the corner to his room, she could hear the shower running, as well as the faint sounds of his heavy breathing and soft moans from behind the curtain. Her eyebrows shot up, realizing what she was walking in on. She decided to enjoy the spectacle, propping herself against the sink and crossing her arms. She guessed she could wait until he was finished.

He could feel his knees weakening and his body shuddering, signaling his imminent release. He was too far gone to try and drag it out any longer, so he quickly thought of what sliding into her wet center would feel like. Undoubtedly tight, dripping wet, and so warm wrapped around his throbbing cock. A few expletives fell out of his mouth in a whisper as he fought to control the movements of his hand and not fall victim to his shuddering body. He thought about the way she would feel cumming on his cock; all hot, gushing, and contracting muscle around him. Her mouth would fall open, maybe she would cry out his name. He hoped she would keep looking at him, staring down into his soul when he came inside her. That thought was all he needed to finally have the release he required. With a final jerk and choked grunt, he came in a torrent. Spurts of thick, white cum hitting the shower walls and sliding down into the water. When he could see again, hand still lightly stroking his softening member, he brushed the hair out of his eyes, taking a deep, relieved breath.

"Wish I could have seen that," Maze stated plainly, her features only lightening when she heard a few of the shower products fall to the ground at the sound of her voice.

"_Bloody Hell, _Maze!" he yelled, his fist slamming into the wall of the shower, completely startled. "Fuck!" He could feel his body shaking from the slight panic, but knowing the owner of the voice was letting his nerves calm down quickly. He quickly reached out from behind the curtain to grab the towel from the hook and wrap it around his hips before stepping out, hair curling on his forehead. He glared at Maze for a moment, but when she didn't give him more than an impatient look, he walked past her and into his room.

"Who got you all riled up?" she asked, following him out of the bathroom. She watched water droplets fall over his marred back, drying up when they reached the edge of the _very_ low-slung towel. "I was certain you had got it out of your system when you came back to work looking a hot mess, but I guess not."

"Is there something I can do for you, Maze," he asked, turning around to face her with his hands loosely on his hips. He looked stunning all post-orgasm. His skin flush from the hot water, his eyes glassy and his bottom lip swollen from biting it. Maze forced herself to stop looking at him, knowing damn well nothing would come of looking at him anyways.

"I just wanted to check on you, I could tell something was off," she admitted, narrowing her eyes at him. She wasn't sure why he always had to assume she needed something from him. Why couldn't he just believe she was there for him, and not for what he could do?

"Was that before or after you threw a deceptively heavy box of napkins at me?" he accused, walking over to his dresser and opening up a drawer. He grabbed a set of briefs out, dropping the towel and quickly slipped them up his thighs. It was nothing Maze had never seen before, but ever since they stopped sleeping together, she always felt a bittersweet pang in her stomach when she saw him naked.

"Look, I was just angry because you left," she defended, averting her gaze away from him as he walked back towards his bed, sitting on the edge. "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well, from what you witness, what do you make of my current state?" he asked sarcastically, patting the bed next to him. She huffed and rolled her eyes, but went and sat right night to him.

"Healthy as a horse," she expressed, placing her hands on her knees and looking over at him with feigned shyness. He started at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. She joined him and tried not to stop when his arm slung around her shoulders and he pulled her in close.

"I'm sorry I left you to fend off the masses on your own," he whispered, leaning over and kissing her temple chastely. "But I knew you could handle it."

"Yeah, yeah," she sneered, pushing him off of her. She watched as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, completely unashamed of only being covered in his underwear. "Okay, well, I'll get going so you can get some much deserved sleep," she said, winking at him to hint she was talking about his recent energy expulsion.

"Want to stay and have a cuddle?" he asked playfully, holding out his arms towards her. He had a smile on his face, but she knew he was serious. He was a giant teddy bear at times, but she didn't want to be the fill-in for whoever he was just thinking about. She had done that for way too long, and she had just recently forced herself to stop letting him use her for that, even if he wasn't aware of what he was doing.

"Eww, gross, no," she grimaced, standing from the bed and walking out towards the kitchen. "You become disgustingly affectionate after you cum." She could hear him laugh from behind her as she walked out of his apartment, closing and locking the door. She walked back towards her apartment, trying to not let the way he looked get into her head, or how badly she had wanted to stay and let him hold her. She just wouldn't let anyone else lower her self-worth anymore.

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**A/N: Okay... so what did we think? Are we happy things seem to be moving along with our lovely duo? Anyone else get a little excited about Lucifer's little solo action in the shower? I know I did ;) (I also know of one more that did, too). Anyways, please let me know what you thought. I LIVE to read your comments and reviews! Until next time, dark ones... 3**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I won't leave you waiting any longer. More notes will appear at the end. VERY un-beta'd. I hope you enjoy!**

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After she had left his apartment, she didn't contact him for a few days. He made no attempt to contact her either, she assumed, since she never got a message from him. She spent those days visiting Ella, hanging out with Trixie, and reading. She was trying to let those moments go by her, as if she had gotten it out of her system. She definitely hadn't. Every night when she went to bed, right before falling asleep, the very prominent feel of his hard length pressing against her core rocked her back alert. It had literally happened for a second before he pulled away, but that was all she needed to feel the way her body reacted to him.

She would get it in the shower, in bed when trying to fall asleep, and she would even get that feeling when she was on the couch, trying to watch TV but unable to think about anything else. The feeling of that part of him, hard and thick, pressing against her. The area she hadn't seen yet, and that was part of the thrill. It was that, as well as the sound he had made when he did it. His hips had rolled into her, and that wonderfully erotic sound escaped his lips, and she had felt a gush of arousal flow from her depths. A sound she could get off to, a sound she wanted to get him to make over and over.

She found herself completely tense and tight by Wednesday morning. She had taken Trixie to school with a bag because she would be staying with her father until the weekend. Now that she was back home, with nothing to do until class the next day, her thoughts were racing about what had happened over the weekend. Those kisses had been far too short, but she had felt all she needed to feel to know she wanted more. Even after having told him the truth about her attack, he didn't seem to shy away from her, to look at her as if she were tainted. He still had the same desire and lust in his eyes, and now, her own desire was raging. She had never felt like this before; not in her chaotic high school years, not while filming _Hot Tub High School_, not while being a street cop, not even with Dan. It was like Lucifer had lit this slow-burning fire deep inside her, and whenever he was near, he would blow on it just to make it burn harder.

Thinking of him blowing her desire-fire had her thinking of him blowing his breath along other rather wet parts of her anatomy, and she blamed that need for having texted him and inviting him over that evening. She had said it was to work on material for class the next day, and while that was true, it wasn't the only reason. She had hoped that coming clean would make it easier for her to act on her urges. She had them, yes, she had them badly, but the fear and guilt left behind from the attack always made her weary of going through. Maybe now, that it wasn't a secret from him, maybe she could just let those hands wander where she needed them to go.

If the last time she had kissed him had taught her anything, it was that she could be intimate (to an extent, at least) and have it not turn into a disaster. He had kissed her _after_ hearing that she had been raped, and the fact that he touched her just as firmly with that knowledge had meant a lot. She knew that she had a long way to go; her guilt for even feeling arousal after her attack weighed heavy on her conscious, but she also knew she shouldn't let what happened to her control her life. She wasn't wrong for wanting it, and maybe this younger, stupidly attractive man would be the key to her success.

The morning went by fairly slow, and she tried to use up the time to take a long, hot shower and shaved everywhere. Before the attack, right after her divorce, she hadn't tried to sleep with anyone, but she always prepared for the unexpected. Satisfied with how smooth she was, she had applied lotion from top to bottom and then put on minimal makeup. For someone in their mid-thirties with an acting background, she knew that less was more. He seemed to like her hair down, so she left it to air dry into its natural wavy state. She felt ridiculous for worrying about what he might like, but she was still a woman, and she wanted to pretty, even if for a guy she shouldn't want to feel pretty for. She also decided to dress in something she knew was a hit with the opposite sex: a pair of shorts that weren't too short, but showed off enough leg, and a loosely fitted v-neck. The shirt was great because the neckline hit her at a great spot right below the start of her cleavage, and it was wide enough to show off her collarbones. She tucked the front of the shirt loosely into her shorts, pulling at the fabric to let it hang off her frame perfectly. The bralette she had on underneath was just barely visible, and it gave her a casual, but sensual, appearance.

As the day continued to drag out, she looked through her fridge to make sure she had what she needed for dinner. She had promised to feed him before making him do any work, but she wasn't the most talented chef. She opted to make spaghetti, since she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to fuck that up. All the necessary ingredients just happened to be there, and she was grateful she, at least, managed to have a few staples. She grabbed a water, her mouth had been a little on the dry side since she had texted him. He had responded quicker than she imagined, and he assured her it would be no problem for him to stop by and assist her with whatever she needed. She would definitely not admit that reading that made her insides twitch.

She spent the rest of the afternoon picking up her house. She was able to get it looking presentable because she didn't have a child running around creating new little messes where she had just cleaned. Satisfied with the state of the downstairs, she rushed off to the kitchen. Lucifer seemed to be early all the time, so very European of him (well, except that one time for class), so she wanted to have the pasta ready when he got there, so they could quickly eat and get down to business. School, of course. While she was definitely not going to make her own noodles, she had learned to make a pretty good sauce from her father before he passed away. She gathered the ingredients, tomatoes, garlic, oregano, basil, salt, pepper, and a bit of sugar. It was simple, but paired with freshly grated parmesan, it was _amazing_. She couldn't wait to watch him lick it off his lips in that sinful way he had with the grilled cheese.

The sauce simmered away, the water was almost boiling for the noodles, and she was moving around frantically looking for a lighter to light the candle in the living room when the doorbell rang. With her eyes wide, she looked over at the wall clock and realized, if he was at the door, he was more than half an hour early. She couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips thinking that he just couldn't wait to see her again. It was cute. She tucked the pillow back against the couch, having moved it to look for wherever the lighter could be, and she walked to the door. When she opened it, she was met by an effortlessly put-together Lucifer: black shoes, black slacks, and black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He even had his glasses on, and that alone forced her to focus on not biting her lip in front of him, yet.

"I do realize I'm a bit early, but I've brought libations to make up for it," he quipped, holding up a six-pack of what looked like a craft beer straight from the bowels of Hell. Chloe opened the door a little more and moved to the side to let him step in. "Also, I have parked a few houses down on the opposite side of the street, to protect your nun-like reputation with your neighbors," he added with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at her as he walked past.

"Shit, I didn't even think about that," Chloe admitted with a sigh, closing and locking the door. When she turned around, she watched as he walked towards her kitchen table, the inverted triangular shape of his body was so appealing in all black.

"What good would I be if I didn't remember the details?" he teased, setting the cardboard pack down and lifting two of the bottles out. He turned and she watched as he used the tops of both bottles to open the caps, a small amount of cool vapor escaped from the open bottles as he grinned ear to ear. "Old party trick, and I still got it." He held out one of the bottles towards her, and she walked slowly into the kitchen/dining area. She stood closer than she needed to, and she took the sweating bottle from his hand, letting her fingers linger on his. She had no idea why she was being so flirty, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. "Prost," he cheered softly, clinking their bottles before taking a long sip.

"Prost," she replied, raising her eyebrows at his use of the German phrase. She brought the bottle to her lips, inhaling the hoppy scent before letting the ruby-brown beer glide down her throat. It was strong, definitely, but it had a pleasant crispness that she enjoyed. She scrunched her eyebrows together and read over the bottle, taking in the very artistic styling of what had to be a horned Devil, and wandered down to the content. "Holy shit. 8.7%? You trying to get my drunk?" she asked, smiling before taking another sip.

"I'm never one to say no to a good time, but, not my intention," he responded, gazing over the label. "Blood Junkie Imperial Red," he recited, twisting the bottle to look at the entire label. "Maze said the club owners brought it in from Inglewood, from small crafters called Three Weavers, so I snagged a pack." He winked at her, using his free hand to push his glasses back up his nose. He took another long sip from the bottle before looking around the dining area. He took in the minimal décor, appreciating the pictures of her and her daughter all over the walls. Smiling family pictures were not something he was accustomed to, and he saw it as endearing that she was so happy to be a mother.

"So, are you hungry?" Chloe asked, taking a small sip of her beer. She did like it, but it was definitely that dangerous-strong that could have her tipsy if she wasn't careful.

"Almost always," he answered with a grin, watching as she walked over to the stove and started dipping a mix of noodles and sauce into bowls. He got out of her way when she walked back over to the table, placing a bowl on either side on the end closest to the kitchen. She tapped the side of the table facing into the living room before she ran back to the kitchen and grabbed grated parmesan cheese and two forks. Lucifer was just taking his seat when she quickly sat down, plopping a fork into his bowl and setting the cheese down between them.

"I can pretty much only make pasta and fried egg sandwiches without burning the house down, so," she trailed off, shrugging as sprinkled cheese into her bowl before starting to twirl the noodles on the fork. She waited for him to take a bite, and tried to hide the smile when he licked his lips exactly how she imagined he would, and she could feel heat pooling between her thighs. They both ate pretty quickly, only stopping to take a sip of beer, both eager to finish the meal.

Lucifer finished first and watched as Chloe tried to quickly shove three too-big bites into her mouth. He tried to hold back the snicker as she tilted her head up to keep all the noodles in her mouth, but one fell out, leaving a thin trail of sauce on her chin. She didn't even notice it, and he just couldn't help himself. He leaned forward, quickly reaching out and pressing his thumb to her bottom lip, dragging the skin until he gathered all of the sauce. He stared into her shocked, blue eyes, even as he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked off the sauce. "Thank you for the meal, Professor," he whispered, smirking as he grabbed both bowls and brought them to the sink, leaving her to sit, frozen, with her lips parted slightly.

She watched him as he turned, walking back as if he hadn't just stopped her heart in her chest, as if she wasn't impossible aroused by what he did. He stood by the edge of the table, reaching out and grabbing his beer and bringing the opening to his lips. "So, what can I help you with this evening?" he asked lowly, tipping the bottle and letting the ruby liquid flow down his throat. He watched in earnest as her eyes darkened and her chest heaved with a deep breath. Before he could make the first move, she was standing, raising her arms and pulling his head down by the back of his neck. He grunted into her mouth, carefully setting his beer down on the table before wrapping his arms around her.

He moaned when she licked along the seam of his lips, demanding entrance to taste hops and pasta sauce in his mouth. They moved slightly so that he could lean against the table, his hands trailed down her back until they landed just beneath the curve of her ass. He wanted nothing more than to lift her up and feel her center grind against his hard cock, but she pulled his hands away from her and pushed them to grip the table on either side of his thighs. She pulled her head back, staring into his eyes with her lower lip caught between her teeth. He could see the playful pleading in those blue depths, and he was defenseless against them. He nodded the slightest bit, a silent agreement to stay where she put him, and he watched in amazement as her hands trailed up his torso to grab the collar of his shirt.

She breathed against his skin, holding his stare until she diverted her eyes to the exposed portion of his neck. Diving in, she let her lips drag against his hot skin, groaning when she felt him shiver against her, his arms tensing and hands in a white-knuckle grip on the table. She ran her tongue along his pulse, and he moaned deeply, his head falling back slightly as she continued to lick that sensitive area. She hadn't known she needed to feel and hear everything she was experiencing, but the way he gasped twitched under her touch had her feeling more powerful than she had felt in months. She needed so much more, so she pushed him back a little until she could straddle one of his thighs and bring a knee up to rest on the table by his hand. She could feel the hard length of his cock pressing into the front of her hip, and slick heat gathered between her thighs, and she worried evidence of her arousal was close to soaking through her shorts.

"_Oh, fuck,"_ he gasped as she pressed against him, rising up on her toes to add friction. She fought the urge to groan at his words, the accent and the tone doing wonders to her libido. Desperately wanting to feel more of him, she brought her lips back up to his, whimpering at the barely audible growl that rumbled in his chest as she started to unbutton his shirt. She popped open each button at an agonizing pace, pressing her fingers into his newly exposed flesh, feeling the heat and the firmness of his chest while his tongue curled around her top teeth. She wanted to keep tasting him, but she wanted to hear him more, so she pulled away to trace his stubble-covered jawline with her plump lips. He exhaled shakily as she started to pull his shirt out of his pants to finish unbuttoning it, and his cock jumped under the confines of fabric. It was her turn to moan, feeling the impressive width twitch against her, and she was overcome with the urge to touch.

Chloe ran one of her hands up his side, under the open shirt, feeling his ribs twitch under her nails, while the other hand trailed down his thigh. She watched him as he convulsed slightly when her fingertips moved towards his inner thigh, sliding up until she was an inch away from his straining erection. She leaned away from his neck, wanting to see his expression when she finally touched him where they both really wanted her to. She held his desperate, hungry glare as her small hand finally slid over the length of his hard cock, applying only the slightest bit of pressure. They both gasped and she watched in awe as his mouth opened before slamming shut, the muscles in his jaw working intensely. He managed to keep his eyes open, his lids falling only slightly, making it so he was looking at her through his thick, dark lashes and black rims of his glasses. A long, choked growl ripped from his throat, his closed mouth making it sound guttural as he lifted one hand from the table and cupped the side of her face, the pad of his thumb resting on her lips. He made no other move to grab her, trying to do what she silently asked and keep himself controlled.

She welcomed his touch, the way he was holding her face and caressing her lips only added to the erotic nature of the act. She molded her palm around his member over his pants, starting to rub rhythmically over the entire length, stopping at the spongy head to roll the heel of her hand around it. His groans and gasps where an erotic symphony to her ears, and the small movements of his hips pressing himself into her hand and grinding only made her pussy drip even more. She decided to increase the speed and pressure to put on him, and his reaction did not disappoint.

"Shit, _yes, _just like that," he panted out, his accent thick with need. He rolled his hips up into her hand as his thumb moved through her lips to run along her bottom row of teeth. She could see his chest heaving, but the open shirt was blocking her wonderful view. With her unoccupied hand, she started to push the shirt over his shoulders, one by one. Groaning, he lowered his hand and tried shaking out of the sleeves with his arms behind him. The rolled cuffs along his forearms were stuck, and without his hands able to reach, he couldn't shrug out of the shirt. She could tell he was getting frustrated, wanting to focus on the feeling of her hand rubbing his cock rather than trying to get a shirt off. She was just about to stop to help him when a sharp knock on the door startled them both.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed, for a second before shooting their gaze towards the door. In a panic, Chloe quickly stood up straight and grabbed him by one of his trapped elbows behind his back. He started to protest, but she nudged him hard in the side, dragging him to the small closet in the main hallway before the door. She quietly opened the door and shoved him inside, knowing very well it was no space for a indecently clothed, twenty-seven year-old man to fit into. She heard his muffled wince as a few things tumbled into the closed door, but she quickly ran towards the knocking that continued.

When she opened the door, she was completely surprised to see Dan on the other side, looking slightly miffed. "Dan, what are you doing here?" she asked, saying his name slightly louder than normal, hoping Lucifer would get the hint and behave himself.

"Trixie didn't mention until after dinner that she forgot her book report for tomorrow here," he sighed out, unconsciously looking over Chloe's shoulder into her living space.

"Oh, okay," Chloe responded, turning to the side to let Dan in. She inhaled sharply, hoping he wouldn't notice the pack of beer, and two open bottles, sitting on the dining room table. She was so grateful Lucifer had put the bowls in the sink, or she would have had some explaining to do. "Where is Trixie?" she asked, crossing her arms as Dan walked further inside towards their daughter's room.

"She's in the car, playing on my phone," he yelled back from the girl's room. Within a minute, he was walking back out towards Chloe, a thin folder in his hand. He held it up, signaling he had what he came for, before walking slowly back towards the door. He was almost there when a thump from the closet caught his attention. He didn't seem to know exactly where it came from, but that didn't stop him from looking to Chloe with a confused expression.

"Oh, I was trying to organize," she defended, shrugging her shoulders and giving him a fake smile. "I must have just tried to put too much on one shelf." Her answer seemed to satisfy him and he made his way to the front door and opened it.

"Alright, well, have a good night, Chloe," he chimed, smiling at his ex-wife before walking out into the dark blue sky of the evening.

"You too!" Chloe called out before slamming the door shut with anxious energy. Her heart was racing in her chest, and not from what she wanted it to be from. It was stupid to be afraid of her ex catching her with someone. They were well beyond the jealousy phase of their separation and divorce, but it was the company she didn't want him seeing. She knew if he saw Lucifer here, especially in the state he was in, there would be a confrontation between the three, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs.

She took a calming breath before opening the hall closet door. She tried to cover her mouth before a snicker escaped, but she ended up making a snorting noise before she could stop herself. The soccer ball that had undoubtedly made the thump rolled past her foot. Lucifer was not amused, however. He still had his arms stuck behind his back, he was slumped down against the wall, his neck was bent at an awkward angle due to the shelf sticking out right were his head should be, and his glasses were slanted on his face. He gave her a very annoyed and sarcastic expression before trying to exit the confines of the closet. Chloe reached out to help him as he struggled to right himself and he hit the top of his head on the shelf, knocking a few more items down. She continued to giggle as he huffed out a few explicative as they finally managed to get him out of the closet.

"You didn't have to make such a mess," she teased, as she kicked the fallen objects into the closet and closed the door. She turned around to see him roll his eyes before finally freeing his arms from the prison of his shirt.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, Professor, but you threw me into a closet a Hobbit would have trouble getting into," he responded, holding his shirt in one hand and adjusting his glasses to their proper position with the other. He looked absolutely perfect like that, with his hair slightly mused from their actions moments before being interrupted. Although the mood had been halted, Chloe was still wet and wanting, and she only hoped she could get him back to life.

"It's okay, I forgive you," she whispered, feeling her boldness increase and she slowly closed the space between them. She watched as his eyes widened slightly as he head tilted to the side. "There is still something you could help me with, though."

"Is that so?" he asked, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline as her hands landed on his sides. He dropped his shirt, but made no movements with his hands and let her walk them back towards the living room. "As you know, I am here to assist you with anything you need." His sultry, dark, sensual gaze was back, and his voice deepened to his panty-dropping octave.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, biting her lip as she let her hands trail up his sides to press into his chest. Before his hands could cover hers, she pushed him back into the couch, forcing him to fall to a seated position. He made a surprised sound before smirking dangerously at her. Fully aware of how he looked, he leaned back, letting his head drop back a little so he was forced to look down through black frames. He left his hands out wide on the couch, framing his spread thighs, and she could see his excitement raging under his slacks.

She hadn't felt like this in a long time. She felt powerful as his brown eyes held her gaze in reverence as she climbed onto his lap. She felt her anxiety melt away against the heat of his skin under her palms and against her clothed torso. She felt whole as her lips made contact with his and her core ground against the rigid length under her. The groans she could elicit from such perfection ignited every muscle in her body in ways she hadn't known possible. She hadn't felt the want for control like this before. In that moment, her thighs resting over his, her hips grinding against, his, and her arms holding him to her, she felt like she had the control, that he relinquished his without a second thought. With him moaning and gasping into her mouth with every press of her center against his hard cock, she wanted to have her way with him, to leave him writing and squirming beneath her, unable to do anything about it.

Wanting to feel more, she sat up straight, reaching for the hem of her shirt and shuddering when he inhaled loudly as she pulled her shirt over her head. His eyes traveled the expanse of her mostly-bare torso, taking in the smooth, delicate cotton that barely covered her breasts, her hardened nipples straining against the material. Wordlessly, she reached down and grabbed his hands, placing them on her chest, and she reveled in the way his cock twitched as his hands massaged her breasts. Her hips involuntarily rolled over him and the movement forced his own hips up as he lowered his face towards her chest. She felt his lips against her sternum, tongue poking out to lick a trail between her breasts before she felt his teeth sink into the soft flesh. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her hands tangled into his hair, pushing his face harder against her while she let her hips continue to move on their own volition.

The tightening sensation she craved was forming deep inside her, tugging at her inner walls and pushing the air from her lungs. Those delicious sounds rumbling in his chest didn't help her breathing situation, so she lowered her hands to his face and pulled his lips to hers. She siphoned the oxygen from his lungs, sharing his hair and gripping his body with her thighs. His arms were around her now and lifted his hips to shift them forward so he was sitting on the edge of the couch. The movement had forced their most sensitive areas to roughly snap against each other, and they both moaned loudly. Chloe could hear her sounds getting higher and she knew she would be able to get off like this.

She wanted more of him, but she didn't want what she was feeling to end, even if it could be better somehow. He didn't seem in any hurry to change their situation, instead he let her continue to grind over him in a chaotic rhythm, his hips meeting hers with every motion. Ragged breaths and teeth clashing could be heard, and neither could truly believe what was actually happening. She forced her eyes open to see that he was starting at her desperately. He was pleading for her to let go with him, to give him this moment. She could feel her body tense and tingle, muscles twitching as her nerve endings started to spark.

"Yes, do it," he groaned in a hoarse whisper, pulling her tighter against him and pressing his forehead to the junction between her neck and shoulder. "Please, do it. _Please." _ She could do nothing but nod as the first flutters started. She regretted leaving her channel empty, not demanding for him to fill her so she could crash around something. She wondered if he could feel her muscles clamping or her clit dancing through their clothes, but she knew he could see what they had done by the way her back arched and her body seized, and the way her mouth fell open in a silent scream. The fact she kept her eyes open had been a miracle, but she would never forgive herself if she hadn't seen him fall apart beneath her.

Seconds after her first internal contractions, she felt the hardness swell against her, edging her orgasm on longer, and he lifted his head to look at her. His eyes darkened, his lips parted, and his jaw shifted as a guttural growl resonated from his chest. She could feel the vibrations over her entire body, and she convulsed as they tickled her tortured nub. His hips gracefully jerked beneath her, his arms pressed her down onto him as if he wanted to get inside her through the layers of clothing. She stroked his hair as their breathing evened out, and she couldn't help flush on her cheeks as she let a satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"I can't believe we just did that," she admitted quietly, making no attempt to leave the warmth of his lap. He chuckled lightly, his hands resting naturally on the tops of her thighs as he sank back into the couch.

"What? Can't believe that we just dry-humped like a couple of horny, under-sexed teenagers?" he asked, thumbs rubbing circles on her inner thighs. She appreciated how blissed he looked. It made him look younger, a more-relaxed version of himself. It allowed her to see just how wound up he was on a daily basis. She could understand why someone would seek out sexual encounters if they were the only times he was able to take a deep breath.

"Yes, exactly," she agreed, sure that she looked as equally satisfied as he did. She could feel the copious amounts of slick fluid between her thighs, surely soaked through both her underwear and her shorts. He was no longer hard beneath her, and a part of her wanted to know what the mess in his pants looked like. "Well, except for the teenage part," she added with a grin, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She watched his eyes linger over her breasts, the brown somehow darkening again before he shook himself out of whatever trance he had put himself in. "So, how do you feel?" he asked softly, a slightly smile turning the corners of his mouth.

Chloe's eyebrows scrunched together as she accepted what she felt. "I feel pretty good," she answered, nodding to herself in surprise. She felt good, great, even. She hadn't expected to ever feel this way after being touched, and she was thankful for the positive experience.

"Just good?" he questioned, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he smirked at her. Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a surprised squeak when he quickly stood with her from his seat on the couch, his large hands holding he ass firmly as they rose. "It appears a little extra credit is necessary." The words rolled smoothly off his accented tongue as his lips found that spot on her neck that made her body weak. She groaned loudly, pulling him closer.

"You really don't have to-," she started, a pant taking over her mind and halting any logical thought that was going on. His teeth grazed the side of her throat before they took hold of her bottom lip, tugging before he sucked on the delicate flesh. He released her lip with soft pop and chuckled as she whimpered from loss of sensation.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed, shrugging his shoulders before gently letting her legs lower down to the ground. Once her feet were on a solid surface, he cupped her face in his hands, staring down at her in a teasing smirk. "I should get home anyways, before rather important parts of me are permanently cemented to my pants." He watched her mouth fall open in shock, although he could tell she kind of liked what she heard. "Oh, yes, you made quite a mess in there, Professor," he added, lowering his head to nudge her nose with his before he stepped away to grab his shirt from the floor.

Chloe stood, her mouth still open, slightly dazed from his admission. She knew he came, as well, but hearing him say it like was something she had been missing without realizing it. She blinked a few times, and in that short amount of time, he had slipped his shirt back on, buttoning only the bottom three buttons and leaving the cuffs undone. He looked like a morning-after ad, but he wore it so well. It took her a moment to realize she still didn't have her shirt on, so she quickly grabbed it from the couch and slid the slouchy material over her head.

"Personally, I think it should be illegal for you to wear anything," he jested, walking towards her front door while facing her. "However, I do understand how the mass cardiac arrests could get tricky." She faked a laugh, rolling her eyes at him as they made it to the door. "I'm serious. You're a vision, and you deserve to be told that every day." He was smiling playfully, but she could see how genuine he was in the way his eyes held hers.

"Well, thank you," she said, trying to do anything else but grab the door knob to let him leave. He seemed to be doing the same, scrambling around in his mind to find an excuse to not go. "You're not so bad yourself," she interjected, finally breaking the sudden silence that fell between them.

"I'm so glad you approve," he mumbled, stepping closer to kiss her gently on the corner of her mouth. It was meant to be a quick kiss, she knew that, but when he lifted his lips, they immediately found hers and his tongue started another invasion into her mouth. She moaned into his lungs, her hands reached for the collar of his shirt to pull him down closer to her. His hands trailed down her body to grasp at her hips, pushing her back against her door with a thud. He took full of advantage of her surprise and stepped between her thighs until he nestled in the space she created.

Tasting every inch of her mouth, he slowly bent his knees a few inches before pressing his hips against hers with as much force as he could without causing pain. She gasped against his lips as he pushed her body up the door with his hips until her toes came off the ground. A prideful smile curved his parted lips as her head fell back against the door and her nails dug into the tops of his shoulders. He decided to test the waters and pressed himself even harder against her, and the lewd groan she made nearly cost him his sanity and his control. He fought the urge to tear off her clothes and take her right there, knowing she deserved more than that, at least, for their first time together.

"_Fuck_, I need to go before we dent your door," he growled, inhaling deeply as he glared at her through hooded lids and thick lashes. For the nth time that night, her mouth fell open in utter shock as heat pooled between her thighs. The look on his face expressed restraint, while he eyes glittered with a promise to do just that. "I'll see you bright and early," he assured her, his lips hovering over swollen ones. With a final peck to her lips, he pulled himself away, his dark clothes and hair melting into the black of the night as he forced distance between them as to not give her neighbors a show.

* * *

**A/N: Okay... so yes, I know. A ridiculously long wait for you guys. I wished I could say there was a very reasonable explanation, but there isn't. The last few weeks have not been the best for me, mentally. My headspace has been all over the place, and what little writing time I do have, I spent either staring at a blank page or deleting whatever I wrote. I wasn't in the right frame of mind to write anything of quality. I didn't want to just upload something that was shit. So I waited, and waited, until something finally came to me, I felt better in my soul, and I felt like I could produce something worthy of publishing. I wish I could promise it won't happen again, but I don't like to make ones I can't necessarily keep. I hope this was a good read for you, anyways. Thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate that. Until next time, my dark ones... ;P**


	13. Chapter 13

Chloe woke before her alarm that morning, completely rested from a great sleep following an amazing orgasm she didn't have to give herself. Even hours after he had left, she could still feel his lips on her, the way his arms felt wrapped around her, the way his voice whispered in her ear. Most notably, she could still feel the intense pressure of his hard length pressing into where she didn't know she needed him. For the first time, in so many months, she hadn't been afraid of a sexual encounter, not worried that it would go too far, or that she would no longer enjoy sex with a man. She definitely did want to experience sex with a man again, Lucifer, to be exact.

She couldn't stop the groan that escaped her chest as she threw the covers over her head, hiding the smile from the world. If he could give her a mind-blowing orgasm like that, with just his _very_ sizeable erection straining behind clothes, then what in God's name could he do to her naked? What could all those other wonderfully sexy body parts of his do to her? Those hands, his delicious lips and wicked tongue… it would probably be too much. It was too much. It was so wrong, but part of her knew that was the lure to him; the fact that it was so delectably scandalous and taboo. She only emerged from her cushioned shelter when her alarm went off, sounding the start of her day.

Rushing out of bed, she went and hopped in the shower, unable to wipe the grin from her lips as she thought about getting the chance to see him again. He had turned her into a teenager again, anxiously awaiting the next time she would be able to bump into him in the halls. It was ridiculous, but it felt like it was something that she needed. He was the perfect mix of sex and seriousness. There was a wisdom and maturity in him than stretched well beyond his years, but he still had a boyish charm that was insanely endearing. Not to mention, he looked as if he had fallen from Heaven, and hit every single "sexy" branch on his way down.

She chose a very typical outfit, but made one small adjustment. Instead of her usual denim, she opted for a pair of faux-slacks that were nothing but short of glorified yoga pants. They had the cut and style of work pants, but the button-free stretch of fitness apparel. Even in her thirties, she knew what her ass looked like in them, and the idea of seeing Lucifer's jaw drop, even just a little, got her tingly. She left her house that morning feeling like a new woman. She could actually smile without needing her daughter to brighten her day. It was if the way his touch could make her feel was the medicine she had needed all along.

* * *

After returning home, vigorously jerking off to try and rid himself of his constant erection from her image in his mind (unsuccessfully), Lucifer had barely slept. The soft breeze that billowed under the sheets whenever he moved felt like her breath against his sensitive glans, and it was almost too much to take. He had never been so unable to control himself. Granted, he had managed to leave before he held up his promise of denting her door, but he could not control the raging hard-on he got whenever he just barely considered her in his mind. Even imagining the way he throat would move when she would swallow was driving him insane. If he didn't get inside of her soon, his loins would probably explode from the need to empty into something other than his shower drain, and various other locations around his apartment.

When the first rays of light finally peaked though his curtains, he decided to get up, leaving a night of restlessness behind him. Throughout the many hour of lying there, trying to return blood flow to other extremities in his body, he had decided he was going to make an even bolder move. He made some coffee, showered, got dressed. He had picked out something that usually turned more heads than usual. His signature black slacks and a light grey shirt, sleeves rolled, of course. The light material contrasted perfectly with his almost-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. The black stubble along his jaw was sharp compared to the light collar around his neck. It was one of his more successful looks, not that he ever failed at getting what he wanted.

He left his apartment with ample time, knowing fully well that Chloe got to class ridiculously early to ensure she was prepared for the lesson. Typically he would scoff at the idea of being that early, but it was about to be in his favor. The drive was relatively quick in the strangely light traffic, but he wouldn't complain; all the extra time before class would be so worth it.

* * *

Chloe had been in her office for a little over ten minutes when there was a knock on the door. She had managed to make it to the university with a little less than an hour before class began. She was grateful to have some time to calm herself down before having to see him again. She would definitely need it. Unsure of who could be there to see her, she remained still. She waited until there was a second, slightly louder knock before she called out to the other side. When the door slowly opened, she was met with his smug smirk as he quickly walked in the shut the door. He made a show of locking it with a loud _click_ before leaning against the wall adjacent the door.

"Well, good morning, Professor," he greeted lowly, leaning his head back to rest on the wall. Chloe watched the way his position exposed his neck and throat, his jaw line casting an inviting shadow down while he was forced to look at her through his lashes.

Remembering to close her mouth that had fallen open, she licked her lips to stave off the dryness from surprise. "You're here a little early," she stated, turning in her chair to stand up behind her desk. Her fingertips along the wood held her up as she started to move around the desk towards him.

"Yes, well, I figured I could get a head-start on something," he replied truthfully, holding out his hand to her. She looked at him quizzically before taking his hand. He gently pulled her close, allowing her to control the distance of their contact as well as the placement of his hands. She melted into his touch, pressing he lower half against him while leaning back enough to look up at him without breaking her neck. His free hand naturally fell to her lower back while he kept hold of her hand with the other, lacing their fingers and bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

"I didn't take you as an ambitious scholar," she teased, a warm smile spread across her lips as he brought their joined hands down to his chest. He huffed out a chuckle at her statement, his eyes twinkling with something other than amusement.

"Let's just say one of my teachers has been quite the motivation," he answered, slowly leaning down to press his lips to hers. He pulled back first, lips parted, his eyes roaming her face, looking for the response he hoped for. Something was different; the energy way more intense than it had been. They both knew how the other felt, both saw each other fall apart, and they both looked about ready to attack. Chloe was the first to lunge forward, standing on her toes and forcing him to bend to her and her desperate lips. He released her hand to let her dig her fingers into the fabric of his shirt against his chest. His hands landed on her hips as he started to walk them backwards towards her desk. He pulled away from her long enough to push the small chair out of the way before gently pushing her to lean against the desk as his lips brushed along her flushed cheek.

"I want you to know I was outrageously hard all night because of you," he whispered into her ear, kissing down the side of her jaw until he reached her pulse. He moved so than one of his legs remained between hers, forcing her legs to spread slightly. "Did you think about me when you were alone in your bed?" he asked, his voice low and soft against her neck.

"Maybe a little," she replied, trying to keep her voice even while his mouth worked wonders across her skin. She could feel his hand sliding up her body, molding against a breast and squeezing with firm pressure. Before she knew it, his lips were back on hers and his tongue was deep in her mouth. One of her hands dug into his hair while the other wrapped around the back of his arm for support. She could hear his labored breathing between the groans as he continued to lick her, and those sounds did wonders to the wetness pooling between her legs. She was no longer made of carbon; her insides were turned to steam and she was ready to burst like an over-pressurized pipe as he continued to heat her up.

"Please, please tell me to touch you," he prayed, his lips moving all over the expanse of her neck and chest. She gasped as his tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat, lapping her voice to the surface. "Please, I need to," he continued, his sinful mouth moving up along her jaw until he was planting kisses along her face and temple. "Please tell me you need me to."

Maybe it was in the way his voice sounded breathy as he pleaded, or in the way his hand shook as it hovered over the top of her pants, but she knew she had to allow it. Her body gave her no other choice. "Yes, I need it," she whispered, her breath hitching as his appreciation was marked with a moan and a nibble to her earlobe.

With one hand buried in her hair and cupping the back of her head, the hand near her stomach slid down, slowly inching under the seamless line of her pants until his fingertips traced the top of her underwear. Her lips parted with a sharp inhale and he held her gaze intensely as his fingers shifted and he was able to move past the thin material. She could see him holding his breath and his jaw clenched when he made contact with her slick, silky folds. The groan that escaped him was deliciously obscene and her insides twitched both from his touch and his carnal call. She couldn't even try to be embarrassed by how wet she already was, not when she felt his hard cock throb against her hip with more strength than any man's dick should have.

His fingers moved through her with expert care and precision, gathering all of her slick arousal and using it to his full advantage. He circled her swollen clit so slowly she thought she just might die from it. She clung to him as if her life depended on it, pulling and tugging on his hair with every gasp and moan, and he was loving it. He fought every urge he had to simply push her down and feast on her juicy center for an hour, but he had a plan to stick to. Having mercy, he lowered his fingers until they found the epicenter of the fluid coating his digits and he pressed against he just enough to feel the beginnings of an entrance. She pulled harder at his hair, bringing his head to hers so that she could sink her teeth into the skin below his ear.

He could feel the tension in her grasp, holding on to him in both anticipation and worry, yet she made no attempt to stop him. Her teeth along his neck only urged him further and he sank one long, thick finger into her hot, wet channel. They both groaned a desperate sort of cry as he slid in to the hilt of his hand. He pulled his head away from her enough to blindly seek her lips with his and he sucked in the soft, plump skin before taking another breath.

"Oh, _fuck,_ that's unbelievable," he murmured against her mouth, noting how tight she was around just one finger. He pumped the digit in and out of her a few times before letting another slide in, eliciting a moan from her that he could only describe as primal. Curling his fingers inside her, he quickly found the spongy spot inside her that made her knees draw up and her head fall back. With the heel of his palm pressing into her clit and plenty of natural lubrication, he was able to provide both internal and external stimulation in all the right places. The only other thing he wanted was the busy his mouth with her pert nipples, but that would have to wait.

She swore her vision was going in and out in the same way his fingers were inside her; each thrust back in gave her a flash of his perfect lips, or those stony-brown eyes, with each retreat leading to darkness. She could hear her own heavy breaths, coming out in high-pitched gasps, his slower, methodical exhales, as well as the faint sound of slick movement. The pressure was building at an alarming rate. Her grip in his hair and on his arm was becoming painful for herself, a white-knuckle clutch onto the very thing that was trying to throw her over the mountain's peak. If she really thought about it, the rush from the situation only added to the frenzy.

His scalp was stinging in such an appetizing way and he loved how hard she held on to him, as well as how tightly her pussy clenched around his fingers. He just couldn't believe it, and the sick little part of him imagined what it would feel like to stretch her to her limits with his cock with her thighs squeezing around his waist and heels digging into his lower back. The tremors around his fingers brought him back to the present, and he knew the moment was now to slowly start to unravel her mind.

"Please, ask me for more," he requested, his hand on the back of her head brought her gaze back to him, and he could see the absolute need in her eyes. "Tell me to give you more, ask for another part of me," he continued to plead, staring into her, unable to look away when he saw black bleed further into blue.

"I do want more," Chloe gasped her reply, both hands moving to grasp at the hairs on the back of his neck. His body pressed against hers even more, and the evidence of his affection was not left unnoticed by either as they both groaned at the contact. "I want so much more of you," she admitted, grinding her teeth together as her hips started to roll into his palm. She could feel the precipice nearing and she wasn't sure if she was ready to combust into a million pieces or not.

"Oh, that's not very specific," he laughed lowly, slowing his movements and halting any contact with her clit. She whimpered lightly, but he curled his fingers inside her again and held steady pressure against her most sensitive area. "I can think of one place that's guaranteed to shut me up." For the finisher, he wiggled his fingers into a "come-hither" motion and reveled in the way her body shook, not in the earth shattering way, but just enough for her to start to crumble. "I'll give you a hint," he whispered, gathering her attention once more before dragging his tongue over her parted lips, letting the muscle dip inside her mouth and stroke her tongue before ending along her cupid's bow. She groaned a low, visceral sound that stoked the fire of his pride and he couldn't stop himself from licking along her jawline before, reluctantly, pulling his fingers from her inviting depths.

She had the look of being so close and confused at the same time, and he would be lying if that wasn't a huge turn-on. She made a move to kiss him, but he pulled away just enough to let her lips brush his. A frustrated whimper feel from her throat and he chuckled his response. "I know, I know," he teased, pressing his forehead against hers. "I want nothing more than to make you fall apart right here on this desk, but your presence is required elsewhere." With that, her eyes shot open and refocused. She hadn't even considered the time, she scrambled around him to find her phone to check the time, but Lucifer started backing away towards the door. "Chop, chop, you've a class to teach," he stated with a smirk before disappearing from her office, leaving her a wet, worked-up mess on her desk.

Finally finding her phone, she saw she had just about ten minutes to gather herself, as best she could, before she had to stand in front of a bunch of budding adults, including the man that left her in her current state, and teach them about proper interrogation procedures. She wasn't sure what Lucifer was doing, and she didn't really understand why he stopped when he had her so close, but something in the way he smirked at her made her think he had something in mind. She steadied herself with a few deep breaths, never having been left clinging to the edge, yet still very happy, in her entire life. She was just about to push herself up onto her shaky legs when her door was opened slightly, startling her. With her hand on her chest to still her racing heart, she looked up to see Lucifer's face peeking through at her.

"Leave this unlocked," he said quickly, his eyes darting down towards the lock on the door before he shut it once again, leaving her to try and calm herself down, again. His request brought a smile to her face, and as she left her office, unlocked, and entered the classroom, she couldn't stop herself from considering what the small request would lead to in the near future. She stood behind her podium, feeling like a new woman, as the class slowly started to calm down at her arrival at the front of the room. From the corner of her eye, dark hair and light shirt caught her attention, and she noticed that Lucifer was sitting a few rows back, towards her right side, with a few seats empty around him. She was instantly thrown off, because he usually enjoyed the way he was adored by the girls in the class and opted to sit right in the middle of all of them.

She could see he still wore that smirk he had when he left her on the desk, and it never faded, even as she went through the introduction of the day's topic. The more she talked, the more he seemed to make himself comfortable. She could feel his eyes burning into her, and the way his thumb was toying with his lower lip always brought her attention back to him. There would be brief moments in her lecture where she could look at the entire class, but she was always drawn back to him, especially when she slumped further down in the seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and both hands gripping the desk. When he knew he had her full attention, he made a show of letting one of his hands drag across the small desk and disappear under it.

Chloe was impressed with herself when she only stuttered on her words a little, able to shrug it off by clearing her throat, when his eyes partially closed and lips parted. It was pure muscle memory that she was able to continue speaking as the shoulder belonging to his hidden hand started moving, just slightly. Swallowing hard, she stared at him in disbelief, and all he could do was raise an eyebrow in her direction and lick his lips. Thinking too hard about what he might be doing under that desk made her squirm, and he could see _everything_ through the acrylic podium, as could the rest of the class.

She forced her eyes away from him, righting her position and dove into her notes, discussing what could and could not be said until a lawyer was present and so on. Even while her brain went over the difference between tough questioning and abusive questioning, her sight was focused in on Lucifer. His smirk was gone, but it was replaced with something even more dangerous: his bottom lip tugged on by his teeth, slowly released with a silent gasp. She clung to the podium to try and stop her thighs from rubbing together to no avail. She could see the hint of a smile in his eyes before his hand came back up to rest beside the other on the desk. Chloe sighed in relief as she looked over to the side of the room towards the clock hanging above the door. Somehow between the start of her lecture and his hand disappearing, forty minutes had gone by.

Unsure if it were divine intervention or not, she was thankful for the lapse in time, as well as for Lucifer having stopped his little show for her. How anyone could manage to look like they belonged in the intro of some school-fetish porn, but still look irresistibly sexy, was beyond her. Since her rather ballsy TA had felt it appropriate to distract her, she had completely forgotten about the oral quiz they had prepared a week back. The only thing they had actually managed to get done that revolved around his new title. She knew that would have to change; she wouldn't be able to keep meeting up with him as her assistant unless he actually did some scholarly assisting.

She was just about to start winding down the class for any questions or comments when the all-too-graceful Lucifer slid out of his seat and proceeded to walk along the back of the room and exit the door almost completely unnoticed. She knew where he was going. Why else would he have told her to leave her office unlocked? Finally able to breathe and stand without assistance, she started answering the few questions that some of the more avid learners had until the end of the lecture hour. As soon as the clock struck 10:00, students were raising out of their seats, and she was silenced by the deafening shuffle of people trying to leave as quickly as possible. She didn't assign anything other than reading; she was far too wrecked to try and remember what assignment the curriculum had suggested.

After the last student, a very thin, lanky younger guy had gathered all of his belongings, after dropping them a few times, and left the room, Chloe quickly hurried out of the classroom. Nervousness tickled at her mind, and she wasn't sure why. His teasing before class had felt like a promise, and she wasn't sure what to expect after she walked into that small room. Having gathered the courage, with the help of a fresh wave of arousal pooling between her thighs, she opened the door as casually as she could.

"I have to give my appreciation to whoever chose those podiums, because I _loved_ watching you squirm up there," Lucifer's voice rang out in the small space, the accented quip she was hoping to meet beyond the door. "Do you feel cheated?" he asked as she locked the door and pressed her back against it. He was perched on the edge of her desk, arms crossed, making the material of his shirt stretch in all the right places. Her core throbbed at the sight of his heated eyes, slightly mused hair, and lusty eyes. "Wish that little desk had been clear, as well?"

"You're insane," she breathed out, her head falling back against the door as a few strands of hair loosened and framed her face.

"Quite," he replied, a small chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pushed himself off the desk and started moving towards her. He said nothing as he stood in front of her, both hands moving up to cup her face as he loomed over her, tilting her head up in his grasp. "I think there's something I need to finish, isn't there?" he whispered, lowering down so that his lips hovered just over her own and his nosed judged the tip of hers.

"_Yes," _she answered, her voice breathy and barely audible. She heard him hum his agreement as he moved them, pulling her away from the door and towards her desk for the second time that morning. As soon as the backs of her thighs touched the desk, he was pushing her down, forcing her back to flatten on the desk as his hands found the sides of her pants and underwear.

"Tell me what you want, Professor," he pleaded, leaning over her body and staring directly at her. The grip on her lower garments was strong, as if he was on the verge of tearing them off her. Her mouth went dry at his words, and she knew exactly what he was wanting to hear.

"Finish what you started with that smug mouth of yours," she demanded, biting her lips as his mouth parted in surprise. The corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile as he growled low in his chest. He stood up and pulled her underwear and pants down to her ankle before quickly ducking between her legs, effectively caging himself within her thighs. He knelt down in front of her, eyeing the glorious anatomy she possessed with reverent awe and wonder. Chloe's hands immediately fell into the dark strands on top of his head as his lips trailed against the drying wetness of her inner thighs. He licked and sucked at her juices there, groaning at the opportunity to finally taste her. He took his time, cleaning every inch of her, avoiding the very place she needed him, and sucking small marks into her delicate skin.

She tried to tug him where she wanted him, but he wouldn't succumb, instead he used his hands to wrap around her hips and hold her steady, right where he wanted her. She released one hand from his hair, leaning up to prop herself on her elbow to be able to watch him work. She couldn't have imagined someone like him to look even better, but fuck if he did. Seeing his dark, mused hair, those brown eyes that captured you soul, and the stubble surrounding his handsome face peeking out from the apex of her thighs was magical. When he opened his mouth wider, his lips surrounding her silky skin, tongue flat against her clit, starts shot across her vision. The gentle pressure and short licks against her ultra-sensitive bundle was almost too much to take. Having been denied release before, her nerves were electrified ten-fold by his ministrations, and he knew that. She could feel him chuckle against her as he brought a hand up to the curve of her ass. While holding her gaze, he plunged two fingers inside her, pushing past her clenching muscles to touch her as far as he could.

His fingers twirled around inside her heat, feeling the smooth landscape of her inner walls and remembering any are he received a whimper at. She was tugging painfully at his hair again, but fuck him if he didn't love that feeling. Every involuntary tightening of her fist between his locks made him wince erotically, his eyes fighting to not roll back into his head. Oh, how he wanted that grip on his ridiculously hard cock, but this wasn't about him. Not yet. He continued his assault on her clit, his fingers teasing her internally in tune with his tongue, and he knew her release was imminent. He groaned at the thought of tasting her, a new wave of arousal just flowing into his mouth, as satisfying as a man finding water in a desert. Watching her chest heave with her labored breathing made him wish for more than two hands. He would love to be able to tease her perfect nipples while feasting on her with his fingers deep in her sanctuary.

Her breathing was fast, countless whispered obscenities rolled off her tongue between erotic bites to her lip, and her eyes were locked on his. He lapped and sucked at her flesh, his fingers curling in her to nestle along the patch inside her that made her thighs quiver. He moaned with his tongue against her clit, sending her over the edge with agonizingly slow strokes of wet muscle, his fingers rubbing her while her muscles clamped down around him in a delicious dance. His eyes fluttered imagining his cock being in their place, her tight, wet heat clamping down around his length, consuming him and pulling him in deeper. Her silent release was beautiful to him, but he wished he would have been able to hear her lose control. Another time, perhaps.

When reality slowly faded back into existence, she looked down to find Lucifer still kneeling between her legs, taking turns kissing her inner thighs and sucking on the digits coated in her essence. She weakly pulled him with her legs and he happily obliged her, standing up and leaning over her form. He slowly brought his lips to hers, and the sweet and salty taste of her lingered in his mouth. His changed position allowed her to feel the prominent hardness pressing against her inner thigh and her hips rolled on their own accord. She could see how much he was affected by that, how painfully aroused he was, but not asking for anything. She wanted him, never having wanted anyone like that in her entire life, and she needed to see and feel what else he could do. How else he could enlighten her and break through the sealed doors to her bruised soul.

As she kissed him, her arms wrapped around his neck while one of his hands supported her lower back and the other trailed along her bare outer thigh. All she could think was more, more, more, even as his tongue slid along her lip and his teeth pulled on the flesh until she was groaning again. Her hands slid down his toned torso, taking time to feel every line of muscle she could before stopping at the top of his slacks. His breath hitched against her mouth, and she paused for a brief moment to catch the glimpse of desperate need in his eyes. It was all she needed to start attacking his belt, but her actions were halted by one of his hands, slowly clasping around hers.

"Not here," he whispered, releasing a deep sigh as if he were disappointed with his self.

"Why not?" she asked, trying to hide the slight hurt in her tone. She didn't understand. He seemed to have no problem with fucking random people at school, why should this be any different? "You don't want to?" Her question made the room silent, even their breaths seemed to have quieted down, as if waiting for his answer, as well.

"Oh, you have no idea how badly I want to," he groaned, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I want to do it when you can be as loud as I want to make you." He lowered his voice at that, doing his best to convey how much he wanted her, but also wanted the right setting. "I want to have you laid out in front of me so I can taste every inch of you before you finally let me slide inside you." She could feel her core quiver at his words, and couldn't believe that a voice could turn her on in this way.

Maybe she was still hazy from the insane cunnilingus, strong, confident tongue plunging into her depths, maybe she just really wanted him, regardless of the reason, and she reached down and took hold of his length in her hand. She squeezed around what she could, and she couldn't stop the satisfied smile tugging at her lips when he whimpered at the touch. Heat welled up inside her, the almost uncontrollable urge to have what she wanted literally at her fingertips. "You're really not going to take the opportunity?" she teased, rubbing along the length to cup his balls through the thick material. He groaned, head falling forward as a light chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"You're not playing fair," he whined, although there was a smile on his lips. Her hand felt so good on him, and he didn't want that feeling to go away.

"Me?" she asked incredulously, watching the way his hips barely moved against her touch. She was surprised by his will power, most guys would have just went to hell with it and taken her up on her offer right there. "You're the one that started it."

"Ah, yes, but if I recall, I did seem to finish it," he countered, grinding into her hand just to keep himself of the edge of losing control, but not going over. He liked toying with that edge, and damn if this woman couldn't make him want to jump.

"Yes, you did," she replied, a sultry laugh escaping her chest. She pressed her lips to his for a soft kiss, her tongue running along the seam of his mouth before pulling away. "But what if I want more?" She reveled in the long, whiney groan that vibrated through his body. She tightened her grip on his cock, hoping to persuade him more. She wasn't sure why she was trying so hard, but her body was crying out for more contact.

"I would take a bullet to have you right now, if you can't tell," he grimaced through clenched teeth, rutting into her hand to emphasize his statement. "But I want it to be somewhere you can use me and take me any way you need to." He stared into her eyes, eyebrow quirked and tongue darting out along his lower lip. How could she argue with that prospect? After a moment, she nodded in submission, pressing her lips together to hide her smile when he sighed in relief that she wouldn't torture him anymore. Somehow, with the grace of a fucking ballerina, he ducked out from between her legs and lowered himself down to slowly (and quite seductively) pull her underwear and pants back up to her mid-thighs, kissing her legs the entire way.

She wondered why he had to be so fucking perfect like this. Sure, he seemed to be a bit loose, most likely an alcoholic and probable drug user, but like this, he was the epitome of perfection. A perfectly gorgeous, horribly tempting, erotically driven being. Maybe this is what the Devil looked like, she laughed to herself. He helped her off the desk so she could wiggle back into her pants, thankful she chose the stretchy kind that morning. She was insanely wet still, but she didn't mind the discomfort the dampness caused in her pants, because it only reminded her of him.

Before another word was said, she heard a phone vibrate nearby. They both started tapping at their pants, but it appeared that Lucifer's device had cut the comfortable silence. She watched as he rolled his eyes at the screen before furrowing his brows together. He placed his phone back into his pocket before rubbing the back of his neck, looking slightly disappointed.

"It appears I have a meeting, with an administrator, that I have to get to," he informed her with a fake smile. He had told her he never lied, but he never said anything about keeping details from someone.

It wasn't her business what went on with his life anyways, so she brushed off the slightly unnerving look. "Oh, yeah, sure. Don't let me keep you," she expressed quickly, tapping her fingers on the front of her thighs. She suddenly felt a little awkward, and she wasn't sure why. Had he finger fucked her senseless before class, made her wait and touched himself while she taught, and then finished her off with that _ridiculous_ mouth of his? Yes, but what happened now?

"I would much prefer that," he huffed out, making a move towards the door. He stopped himself as he reached for the handle and quickly turned back towards her, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her. He let their tongues dance around together in the warmth of their joined mouths, soaking up every second the muscles had to be entwined. "We'll talk more about _more_, yes?" he asked once he had pulled away. He was searching her eyes for hope that she hadn't just been asking while basking in post orgasmic bliss.

"Definitely," she assured him, biting her lip and nodding towards the door. He smiled and pecked her lips one last time before quietly leaving her office, walking out as if nothing was strange about his presence there. Truly the master of discretion.

* * *

He half-stormed his way to her office. A deal was a deal, yes, but it didn't mean he had to be happy about it. The woman always seemed to call on him at the most inopportune times, for him. This time, however, was different. She had been rather vague in her text, but she had said one thing that struck a chord with him. _We can't hide forever, can we?_ It seemed innocent enough, sure, but he didn't take Charlotte Richards to be a woman that said anything without specific purpose. If that were true, if she had said that for a reason, the very thought of that chilled him to the bone.

Without knocking, he opened her door to find that she wasn't alone. A certain detective he hadn't seen in some time was standing far too close to the chairwoman to be a professional visit. Not to mention, his hands were resting on her hips. When he locked eyes with the other man, shock quickly wore off to something resembling irritation.

"Mr. Morningstar, you got here quicker than I expected," Charlotte chimed, a smile on her face. Lucifer could read that smile, he knew that his "interruption" was not as much of a surprise as she made out. She wanted him to see who she was with.

"I was already here, just got out of a lecture," he responded, unmoving from his spot in front of the door. He eyes the two suspiciously, and wondered why the hell Charlotte Richards was with Chloe's Ex.

"That's right, Professor Decker's course, right?" she asked, the smile still on her lips as she smirked in Lucifer's direction, out of Dan's sight. "How's your new TA position going with her?"

Lucifer tried to keep a small smile on his lips, and fought the urge to narrow his eyes at the woman in the room. Dan, on the other hand, allowed his shock at the news to show easily on his face. His eyes went wide before he clenched his jaw and glared at Lucifer.

"Do you two know each other?" Charlotte cut the tension with her question, looking pleased as pie for the new twist in whatever ploy she was plotting. She looked between both men, hiding her excitement well behind a professional face.

"We met briefly," Lucifer stated, tucking his hands into his pockets. He wasn't sure why the air was so thick in the room, but his own pride and ego were being inflated knowing what he had just done to her no more than fifteen minutes ago. He wondered if Dan would be able to tell.

"Yeah, I questioned him after he nearly beat a man to death outside a bar," Dan added, turning his attention back to Charlotte.

"It was for a good reason, wouldn't you say?" Lucifer quipped, not able to help himself. Dan turned his face towards him again, and nodded his head, almost disappointed to have to agree with him. The detective in the room quickly whispered something to Charlotte before grasping her arm lightly in his hand. When he walked towards the door, he made sure to knock into Lucifer before leaving the office, a move that men, for some reason or another, feel the need to do.

Once they were alone, Charlotte stepped around her desk and started walking towards Lucifer. He let her hands glide over his chest, playing the buttons at the top as he carelessly wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well, that was a surprise, wasn't it?"

"I'm not here to talk about them," Lucifer said coolly, tilting his head to the side once Charlotte started to kiss along his neck. "What did you mean in your text?"

She never skipped a beat, dragging her red-stained lips along his skin, surely leaving pigment behind for him to have to clean up. "I have fifteen minutes before I have to go to a meeting. We'll talk once I get back," she replied just as casually, as if her hand wasn't palming against his hardening cock. His body always betrayed him in situations like these; he dick really never understood when it shouldn't be happy about being played with.

Without warning, she turned him around and pushed him into one of the chair in front of her desk. He adjusted his seat as he watched her lift the tight pencil-shirt up her thighs to reveal her crimson-clad pussy. She pulled the material down her legs and stepped out of them before dropping the fabric to the ground. Lucifer unbuckled his belt and opened his slacks, pulling out his erect member, waiting for her to pounce. She climbed into his lap, her long legs allowed her to reach the ground beneath and she sank herself down onto his length with a sigh of relief.

He guided her as she rode him, using his body to please hers in a rough, controlled movements. She braced her hands on his chest and let her head fall back, completely enthralled with seeking her pleasure in such a short amount of time. He had no qualms fucking Charlotte at school like this. In her office, having to stay quiet, able to scratch the itch, but not completely rid the body of the need. He wanted Chloe to be completely sated; throat raw from moaning his name, body aching just the right way. She was different from all the other people he slept with. Those people were used to scratch the itch, but Chloe was going to make him feel it everywhere. It was both thrilling and worrisome, but he wasn't one to let a little trepidation slow him down.

Once Charlotte came and allowed Lucifer the same release, she quickly left, leaving him with the assurance of talking more once the meeting was over. He sat in her office, unsure of how long he would have to wait, but he had a feeling he needed to. The glint of knowledge in her eyes concerned him, so he sat, his leg bouncing with worry, as he waited for whatever Charlotte Richards had to tell him.

* * *

**A/U: Okay, so yes, long wait, again. I appologize. I won't bore you with excuses. Anyways, I hope this was, maybe, worth it? Un-beta'd, as usual, so mistakes were likely. I know it's a little shorter, but I wanted to get this out for you guys. Much appreciation for sticking with me. Until next time, dark ones...**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Okay, a bit of a shorter chapter for you guys, but... it's a fun one! I hope you like it! I know I've been a little lengthy with my uploads, but I hope you'll bear with me. I'm working on it when I can, and trust me, I wish I had more time. Have fun with this, I know I did. Un-beta'd, as usual.

* * *

"You received _what_?" Lucifer asked, his face blank except for a slight smirk on his lips to mask the panic that was rising. Charlotte had been gone for less than an hour, and when she returned, she sat at her desk and nonchalantly told him about a message the school received on his behalf.

"Not me, initially," she corrected, studying his casual demeanor and recognizing it as false. "The Business Office received an email a few days ago from someone claiming to be your brother." She watched as his eyes slightly flickered, but he didn't react any more than that. "Normally, the school would ignore something like that, label it as spam, and move on. However, the nature of the message was slightly concerning."

He licked his lips and slouched back in the chair. "'Concerning' how?" He did his best to sound as disinterested as he could, but he was beginning to lose the loose grip on sanity he had.

Charlotte's lips curved in a smile. She knew someone like him was only interested in things that concerned him. She had been right; it was real. "Oh, you know, saying that you had a family that cared about you, that had been looking for you," she started, trailing off when she could see anger boiling behind brown eyes. "They said they just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"And you say it's from someone claiming to be my brother?" he asked, although he was more thinking aloud to himself. He had many siblings, his parents being the type to have their own children as well as adopt the less fortunate to mold into their soldiers. Lucifer was one of the seven biological children, having been granted more prominent positions in his father's _business_, however, that also meant his demise had been greater.

"Does the name Gabriel ring any bells?" she asked, although she knew the answer. She took his silence as his understanding. Also, she could see his jaw clenching. She wasn't sure what the entire situation was about, yet, but she sure did want to find out. However, if she wanted to keep him around, she would have to back off and play it cool. "Well, I just thought you should know. Do with that information what you will," she said cheerfully, smiling at him expectantly. She had told him mostly everything. What she had left out was of little importance to him, at the moment. She hadn't told him that she had told the school she would attend to this personally, and she wasn't going to tell him that she replied to the email. She certainly wasn't going to tell him that she had already received a reply.

He sat for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and leaving her office. Once outside of the building, he allowed his panic and anger to spill to the surface, just a bit. He didn't care about running into students as he stalked towards his car. He didn't care about missing any classes or whether he was going to miss an important exam. All he cared about what getting to his car, taking a few of the pills he had in the glove box, and getting back to his apartment to think about what to do next. Gabriel was one of the oldest of his biological siblings, and he was formidable. He was slightly taller than Lucifer, and about 20 lbs (9 kgs) heavier. He was a tank of a man, and having him after you did not make sleep easy.

At his car, he found the baggie in the glove box and dry-swallowed three powdery pills. He looked at the unlabeled bag and grimaced, he really needed to start labeling them. He coughed and shook his head at the acrid aftertaste, but knew it was the beginnings of not feeling as worried. He drove off, hoping to get back home before the drugs kicked it; parallel parking while high was still not a strong suit of his. On his way up the elevator to his floor, he texted Maze, but he was immediately hit with her automated reply of being out of town looking for an asshole or two. He cursed at the ill-timing, really wishing that he had had someone around to be a second set of ears tonight.

As he opened the door to his apartment, he considered whether or not he should go to work that evening. Luckily, he didn't work a regular schedule, not having set nights he came in, and he didn't want to give away he knew he was being watched. _IF _he was being watched. Knowing his family, that email could have been sent just to see if they could catch him fleeing, or that could have been sent to fuck with him after watching him for weeks. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why they were all that concerned with him. Michael shoving him off the second-story balcony and nearly killing him didn't exactly scream "worried about you".

Unscrewing the lid off a bottle of whiskey, he took a few short pulls; he wanted to be numb for a while, not unconscious. He had hoped to get a few hours of sleep before going to work, but he knew that that wasn't going to happen. Not now. He screwed the lid back on the bottle before walking towards his couch and flinging himself down on it, making sure to duck low enough so he head wasn't visible from the window. A warming sensation was starting to spread across his body, and he could feel his brain start to melt in that familiar way. He closed his eyes and let his foggy mind start to run through the multiple possibilities for his family's sudden interest in his life. Why now, five years after he was ceremoniously and literally kicked out? It couldn't be good, he was sure of that. Question was, how _bad_ would it get?

* * *

Chloe drove home later that afternoon, without having heard back from Lucifer. She didn't want it to bother her, but it did, a little. She had practically thrown herself at him, and while he had provided some much needed relief, he had denied her the one thing she wanted. She wasn't sure if she should feel any certain way about that. He had made it clear that he wanted to sleep with her, he just wanted a more private atmosphere. That was understandable, endearing even, but she hadn't imagined he would ever turn her down for "later".

He had been so sweet, so respectful, in an almost confusing way. While every word out of his mouth was dripping with seduction, he still asked for permission to touch her, or wanted her to tell him what to do. While he wasn't necessarily treating her like glass, he wasn't treating her like the strong woman she was. She had opened up to him, allowed him into her darkest insecurities, and he hadn't shied away from her. However, she wondered if he would be this worried about doing something she didn't want if he didn't know about the rape.

That thought created turmoil, as well. Should she want him, need him, to ask for permission. Was it wrong that she wanted him to just take her at his mercy and do the things he felt she wanted? The internal argument made the muscles in the back of her neck ache. To be at war with oneself was exhausting. What she needed was a bottle of wine, a long, hot bath, and another orgasm. Preferably by cock, someone's cock, to be exact. Knowing the last part wouldn't be happening, she sighed and pulled into her driveway. She went inside and decided to get a head start on the bottle of wine while she waited for Trixie to get home from the bus.

* * *

She had been in bed for only a few hours when her phone rang out in the dead of the night. The sound had startled her, both ringing and vibration disrupting the hard silence in her dark bedroom. She groaned as she reached out for the glowing device on the nightstand. No one should be calling her; it wasn't like she was being called to crime scenes anymore. Much to her surprise, although it really shouldn't have been one, Lucifer's name appeared on her screen. She was glad he wouldn't be able to see the flush on her cheeks when she saw his name. It was embarrassing.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to muffle the yawn that ceremoniously started as soon as she pressed the green phone icon.

"Fuck, I should have known you'd be asleep. I'm sorry," he expressed, the muffled sounds of conversation and classy music could be heard through the phone line, but she could tell he was walking away from the crowd.

"It's fine," she assured him, leaning back onto her pillow, cradling to phone next to her ear. "Unlike you, I sleep when it's dark." She was smiling and twirling a strand of hair between the fingers of her free hand. Yep, she was definitely acting like a teenager, talking to a boy late at night.

"Honestly, I sleep when I get the chance," he admitted through a short laugh. She could hear that he was walking, and the ambient noise was beginning to lessen more and more. "So, besides being so rudely woken up, how are you this evening?"

"Yes, besides the rude interruption of my sleep," she started, continuing on with his jest. "I made dinner for Trixie and watched a movie with her before she went to bed."

"Ah, yes, I guess you do need to feed the offspring from time to time," he sighed, but she could hear the smile in his words. He pretended to be bothered by kids, but she could tell that Trixie seemed to make an impression during their short encounter. "And after you earned your freedom back?"

She rolled her eyes and bit her lip, shaking her head against the phone. It was almost as if he knew her reaction, because she could hear a faint chuckle on the other end. "Once I was a free woman again, I drank an entire bottle of wine, took a long bath, and climbed into bed." Apparently, that had piqued his interest and he hummed with intrigue.

"Care to divulge any details about that 'long bath'?" he asked, saying the last two words in an American accent, clearly trying to sound like her. She couldn't stop herself from blushing at that. He was both unbelievable and charming, and it was really beginning to get frustrating. In a good way.

"It was just a soak, really nothing exciting," she replied, adjusting the comforter covering her body so that she no longer felt trapped beneath its weight.

"Professor, any situation involving you wet and naked is exciting," he countered, lowering his voice in that sexy way he always did when he was making a point. She had affected him, and the naughty part inside of her relished in knowing that.

"In that case," she started, trying to keep her voice as smooth as possible. Perhaps teasing him, giving him a taste of his own erotic medicine, could help relieve the ache deep in her body. "What would you like to know about it?" She bit her lip as his voice groaned into her ear.

"Oh, that's mean," he whined, and she loved it. "I'm just taking a break, and I still have a few hours. I don't think I want to be out there, performing for the masses, with a raging hard-on." Perhaps he had meant to make her breath catch in her lungs at the thought, but the silence between them lingered, and only seemed to fuel a fire that was not going to die down anytime soon. "Unless you're willing to be awake just a little while longer."

There was a hint of mischief in his voice, and part of her knew exactly what he was insinuating with that statement, the other part wanted to see how he would get her there. "Well that depends on if you entertain me enough," she replied coyly. She had absolutely no idea where that came from, but his slight gasp and hum of approval calmed her nerves from her boldness.

"I could be cliché and ask what you're wearing, but I'm already imagining you in nothing." It was the way his voice was smooth, even over the phone, that made her body feel as if it were melting into the bed. She swore he could sell sin to the pope with that voice.

"Would you look at that," she teased, still twirling her hair between her fingers and grinning towards the ceiling. "Finally got me naked and in bed." She could hear the desperate pain in his groan, and she couldn't stop the wicked chuckle that hummed from her throat. She waited a few more seconds, listening to his labored breathing, before she interrupted the silence. "You okay, over there?"

"Yeah, I just popped a fucking stitch near my zipper, is all," he replied, slightly exasperated, letting out a few forced breaths. "And I'm pretty sure I just had a seizure from the sudden blood-rush down south."

She laughed at that. It was amazing how he could make something sound so sexy and funny at the same time. Usually, that combination never worked well in the bedroom, but he seemed to be able to incorporate humor into his sexual activities. Probably because he was so damn confident (and for good reason), she thought. "You poor thing," she cooed over the phone. Her free hand dropping the strand of hair and lowering to her stomach, lifting the hem of her shirt enough for her to feel skin. She gasped at the sensation; apparently just talking to him over the phone electrified her never endings to an embarrassing level.

"Well, we're just going to have to do something about it," he informed her, and she could hear the metallic clink of his belt over the line. "As a wise, very old man, once told me: 'you never waste an erection.'"

Her breath caught in her chest. He really was serious about doing this. She hadn't been sure, but now that the prospect was obvious, worry wracked through her nerves. She had only ever tried phone sex one other time. It had been disastrous. Too much repeating over a gravelly line as well as pure awkwardness. "Wait, are you serious?" she asked incredulously. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks as well as across her neck. The thought of having phone sex with him, before they had even really had sex, seemed insane for some reason. She was nowhere near as confident with her ability to perform as he was.

"Yes, I was serious when I said that I could not go back to work in my current condition, and I would much prefer to do this with you moaning into my ear." He could hear her slightly gasp and moan on the other end, and it made his cock twitch against his loosening pants. "_Yes_, like that."

She was hopeless when he got all breathy like that, and there was no way she would be able to sleep soundly tonight if she did not take care of the growing ache between her legs. "I've only ever done this once," she admitted, and even she could hear the trepidation in her voice. Without seeing him, she knew he probably had a soft smile on that handsome face of his, and that made her want him, in any capacity, even more.

"All you have to do is listen to my voice," he assured her, and it was as if he knew his voice was a damn weapon. "Just listen and do as I say; pretend it's my hands touching you." She wet her lips to his words, nodding into the dark before realizing he couldn't see her. "Put me on speaker and put the phone next to you on the pillow. You'll need both hands." Every muscle in her body clenched at that, and her thighs rubbed together and she followed his instructions. She quickly pulled her shirt up over her breasts and tugged her shorts and underwear off, exposing her damp flesh to the cool air of her room.

"Okay," she replied softly, biting her lip in nervous anticipation as she waited for him to start speaking again in that low, sexy voice of his. "I'm ready." She pressed her lips together as she could faintly hear the sound of a zipper lowering and his sigh of relief, do doubt from allowing his cock to spring free of its confines. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trusting he would pilot them through whatever he intended to accomplish over the phone.

"Bring your hand up to you mouth and let your fingers trail down over your lips, chin, and down your neck," he started, his voice smooth as ever on the other end. She followed his directions and felt the tickle of her own fingers barely ghosting her skin as they traced over her neck. "Imagine your fingers are my lips sliding over your smooth skin, stopping to gently bite at your shoulder." She let her nails dig into her skin at his words, and her sharp intake of air signaled to Lucifer that she had been following along. He hummed his appreciation, and that deep sound sent a wave of arousal flooding through her silky folds.

"Both hands drag down your sides, fingers rubbing circles on the front of your hips before sliding back up and grabbing your perfect tits," he moaned into the phone, his tone smooth and unfaltering. She gasped as she followed suit, allowing her fingers to barely touch the skin of her hips before working their way back up to her breasts and molding her palms to the soft flesh. She sighed happily, imagining large, warm hands in the place of her small, cool ones, massaging skillfully. "They feel so good in my hands, like they were made for them," he breathed into the phone, his hand around his cock clenching around the length to steady his nerves. "I can't wait to have them in my mouth, my teeth gently biting each of your delicious nipples."

Chloe arched her back into her hands, fingers pinching her pert nipples along with his words and moaned louder at the sensation. She could hear his heavy breaths through the phone, and she couldn't stop the way her hips rolled at the sound. "That feels so good," she whispered into the dark of her room, desperately wishing he could teleport and be on top of her, making her feel this way with his own hands.

"I love the way you sound," he answered with a low moan. She could hear his shaky breath and her palms itched to move down to other parts that needed her attention. "I would love to hear those small noises as I kiss my way down your stomach, lightly biting you warm skin." His imagery was just as much for her as it was for him. She could hear him focus on his own words, no doubt having the same vision of him on top of her with his lips so close to where they were needed. Her own hands trailed down her body, nails grazing occasionally to replace the thought of his teeth nipping at her skin. Her entire body was thrumming with energy and she could feel a damp spot beginning to form beneath her ass from where her arousal had leaked down onto the bed.

"I know how you taste now, and it drives me crazy" he murmured, his voice barely wavering as he recalled the delicate taste of her arousal on his tongue. "I think of those lips wrapped around my tongue as I drink you in, feeling your clit twitch in my mouth made me so fucking hard," he groaned, and she could hear him beginning to lose control. She felt that bundle throb against her slick fingers and gasped. The fire burning between her legs was raging, and soon the heat would become too much and she would have to explode.

"And when I touched you, _fuck_, you were so wet," he continued, panting into the phone and making her skin tingle. "Tell me, are you just as wet now, Professor?" Chloe was thankful for the unspoken permission and let one of her hands travel the few inches south to her destination. Her thin digits slid effortlessly though her folds and her entire hand was coated in her slick need as she cupped herself into her palm.

"So wet," she moaned breathlessly, and his debauched string of curses was all the reply she needed to know he was just as wrecked. "I'm dripping down onto the bed," she added in the heat of the moment, her hips rolling up to get friction from her hand.

"_Bloody Hell_, you're going to kill me," he groaned loudly, and she swore she could hear the slapping of skin from his end of the call. She had to admit, his accent and use of British slang was really a turn-on, especially when his voice was all the stimulation she could get from him.

"You get so tight when you cum, and I wish I could feel you clamping down on my cock, pulling out every last drop of my cum deep inside you." Yes, she thought, he knew _exactly_ what a woman wanted to hear. A lewd moan escaped her lips and she arched up, letting her fingers continue to glide over her damp flesh. She heard heavy breathing over the speaker of her phone, followed by a few whispered swears.

"Please keep going," she begged, knowing he was just as caught up in the moment as she was. She kept her pace slow, not wanting to jump too far ahead of him, but her body was crying for friction, and she just had to give in.

"I think about my fingers inside you all the time," he continued, an edge of strain in his voice. "It's so hard not to think about the feel wrapped around them, tight, warm, and wet, when I'm in the shower, or playing the piano." He trailed off and she groaned, licking her lips and moving her hips up to meet her hand. Her free hand played with her breast, tweaking and pinching her sensitive nipple to further her stimulation. "All those little noises you make in my ear could be my downfall. The only thing keeping me up is the thought of finally sinking my cock into you."

It was Chloe's turn to groan out her own web of curses into the darkness of her room. She was sure she would bite a hole into her lip since he wasn't there to keep it in his mouth. Her hips bucked slightly, and she only wished she had his weight to keep her down. "I need you here," she whined, and she would have been embarrassed if he hadn't growled at her admission. The ache between her legs was only growing, and no amount of her own touch seemed to alleviate it.

"If I were there, I would put you on top of me and watch you sink down slowly, your beautiful body glowing in the moonlight." Holy fuck, and now he was an erotic poet, she thought, turning her head sideways into the pillow to nip at the fabric. "Would you like that?" she heard him ask, and she nodded, only vaguely aware that he couldn't see her visual reply.

"Yes," she breathed, sliding two fingers into her center and curling them in. She mewled, her knees drawing up closer to her chest and the new angle let her hit that place inside her even better. She let her imagination run wild, with the help of his voice, and she pictured him moving over her, grinding his hard length into her hip as his hands worked magic inside her with his hot breath against her neck.

"Watch you grind on top of me, your tits and hair bouncing. I'd grab your hair and rub your clit, lifting my hips to meet your every move." She could feel the room start to spin, and it wasn't the wine she drank earlier. The chaotic tornado of hormones raging through her body was leaving her detached from reality, and all that was around her was his voice and the sensations she felt down south. She could hear him swallow thickly, and imagined how sexy he must look in the throes of lust and passion wherever he was in that bar, his hair messy, lips parted, and eyes hooded.

"I want to feel your body all over mine," he continued, unable to stop his train of thought from reaching the final destination. "I want to touch and taste every part of you until you can't move. I want to make you fall apart again, and again, just so I can feel you shake." She quickened her pace with her hand, her fingers pumping in and out, occasionally smearing arousal over her clit so her palm could glide over the nub and apply pressure. Holy fuck he was doing things to her body through a cell phone, and she wasn't sure if she was impressed or terrified by that.

"Would you like to feel me, too?" he asked, almost pleading, as if he only hoped she could want him a fraction as much as he wanted her. "Feel everything I can do to you once we get the chance? All the ways I can touch you, just right, to help you come undone." They both groaned loudly into the air, the sounds easily picked up by their phones, and Chloe hoped it wasn't loud enough to wake Trixie. She continued to moan and she could feel the tingling start to increase and spread up through her abdomen. Her breaths turned into pants, and she wasn't sure how much longer she was going to make it.

"_Please,_ say my name," he begged, his voice low and breathy. She was certain he was right on the edge, as well, and that was driving her closer and closer to her own decadent death. His plea, the whimpers he wasn't holding back, and the low rumbling groans coming from the speaker fueled her hand to piston in and out of her own heat, heel of her palm rubbing against her clit, and her other hand a death grip on her breast.

"Oh, _fuck, Lucifer, _I'm cumming," she managed to emit, a shaky breath between each word before her hips and thighs shook uncontrollably. She planted her feet on the bed so she could roll her hips against her hand and her mouth open in the quintessential "O". She felt her walls clenching around her digits with a strength she didn't know she had. Her head was thrown back against the pillow as she was gasping for air, and she could hear his pained groans in the distance.

"_Fuck, _it sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth" he growled, his jaw working against the strain of barely holding back his own release, miraculously, through the hypnotic sound of hers. "Tell me, tell me, tell me," he chanted out his prayer, and the total desperation in his tone was all she needed to hear to give him anything.

"Yes, Lucifer, please cum for me," she moaned for him and listened to his quickened breaths and throaty growls, deeper and more husky than normal. The sounds he made when cumming could easily spur on a second orgasm, but she already felt like a pile of Jell-o. She waited him out, biting her lip at all of his delicious noises, grinning as she found her phone, took it off speaker, and put it to her ear. She listened to him trying to catch his breath with a huge grin on her sated face.

"Well, fuck me," he exclaimed, a half-chuckle barely making it past his labored breathing. She could hear him swallowing thickly, and she couldn't stop the swell of pride for getting him that worked up.

"I'd really like to," she responded, although she knew a response wasn't what he had expected when his brain finally allowed words to process.

"Oh, stop," he groaned, and she could hear the slight clinking of his belt. "You're going to make me hard again, and I really can't do anything about it this time." Chloe knew he had no idea what the words he said did to her lady bits, but she sure as shit felt a slight leak at the thought of his readiness for round two. Later, she though, remember that later.

"Okay, I'll be nice," she refrained, trying to close her legs, but she was still too sensitive to even let her thighs touch.

"Thank you for having mercy on this horny soul," he replied, and she knew he was wearing that smirk he always had. There was a brief moment of silence as they both basked in the afterglow of digital euphoria, before he spoke again. "Right, well, let me figure out what to do with _this_," he trailed off, and she could just see his free hand waving through the air in a flourish at the mess he had made.

"Yes," she agreed, going back to twirling a strand of hair. "As a former detective, I can say it's wise to not leave DNA lying around for someone to find."

"Sound advice, _Detective,"_ he chided, and the way he said detective sent a shiver down her spine. She had never wanted to use her cuffs for non-work-related thing like quite as much as she had then. They shared a short laugh before Chloe yawned, loudly, into the phone. "Get some rest, Professor. We'll talk later," he said softly as she stifled another yawn, suddenly exhausted.

"You behave," she retorted and his chuckle gave her the energy to shimmy back into her underwear and pajama shorts.

"I'll try," he answered, after a moment of silence, before quickly hanging up so she couldn't' chastise him for his reply. She sighed heavily, returning her phone to the table and plugging it back in to charge. She got herself back under the covers and shifted her legs around, trying to find a comfortable position. She should have showered, her thighs slick from her orgasm, but she didn't have the strength to deal with anything other than sleeping. She would just have to shower off the evidence of fantastic phone-sex in the morning.

* * *

Lucifer parked in front of his apartment building, knowing damn well that if he was being watched, they would see him walking there, regardless of where he was parked. He walked into the building casually, but instead of using the elevator, he dashed towards the fire-escape at the other end of the hall. He wouldn't be returning to his room that morning, and he knew that Maze had a little trick to getting into the side window of her apartment from the outside.

After falling through the window as gracefully as a large person could fall through a small opening, he made sure all of the curtains and blinds were closed. Maze was really good about keeping her privacy, and he was pretty certain no one would have considered he entered this way. He was exhausted and half-hard, the events of his mid-shift phone call with a certain blonde was threatening to make him empty himself in front of patrons all night. He walked over to Maze's bed and started to strip down, however, once he got to his underwear, he was at full-mast again, and he knew he would not sleep unless he did something about it, again.

This time he would just have to rely on his imagination, so he quickly rendered every conceivable image of Chloe in his mind, down to the smallest of details. He thought about the way his name sounded when she said it in the midst of orgasm and that was his ultimate demise, again. He used his underwear to clean up before, literally, collapsing into the bed. He barely covered himself before sleep overtook him, the drugs, alcohol, and orgasms finally wearing him down.

He probably had a few hours of peaceful rest before an irritated female voice was ringing in his ear. "Lucifer, why the fuck are you in my bed?" Maze asked, and while his vision was still adjusting, he could see her tall, slender, leather-clad frame standing with her arms crossed at the foot of the bed. He opened his mouth to answer, but he was quickly interrupted. "You know what? Doesn't matter. There just better not be any _stains_ on my sheets."

"Of course not, Maze, I'm not a pubescent boy," he defended, eyes still half-closed from sleep. "I took care of that before I got in your bed. I do have at least one considerate bone in my body."

"Well that _considerate bone_ better not have leaked anything on my good sheets," she argued, watching as he feel back against the bed, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. Her sheets were bunched at his hips, covering him from his hips to his knees. It wasn't a bad sight, not in the least, but she wasn't much of a fan of having him naked in her bed unless she was going to be involved; she at maybe another girl.

Lucifer propped himself up on his elbow before squinting as if he was thinking hard on something. He slowly lifted the sheet to view the situation below and quickly lowered it back down, a small grin tugging the corner of his lips. "Maybe just a little one." Before he knew it, a variety of leather objects and gear were being thrown at him, and he took cover behind his arms after a leather glove slapped him in the face.

"Are you fucking naked, too?" she yelled, once she had ran out of shit to throw at him. She had just noticed the balled-up briefs on the floor next to her bed, and she could only imagine what those contained.

"Well, I needed something to clean up with, Maze," he said matter-of-factly, as if that should have been a given from the get-go. He watched her mouth open, but she just closed it before rubbing her own eyes with her hands, clearly having had a long day at this hour in the morning.

"Just, just get out!" she exclaimed, reaching down and pulling the sheets away from him. He covered the goods with his hands as she was shoving him out of the bed. He managed to stay on his feet and keep all the _bits_ concealed as she was shoving him towards the door.

"Wait, Maze, I really need to talk to you!" he shouted just as she opened the door and pushed him out into the hallway. Standing, wearing only his two hands, he tried to find a way to knock on her door. Before he could call out to her, she opened the door just enough for her to toss out his keys so he could get into his own apartment.

"Later, I need to change my sheets and get some sleep," she replied before the door slammed in his face. With as much dignity as a naked man could have, he bent down and picked up his keys before making a walk-of-shame, without the fun night, down to his own door. Luckily, only one woman, and her twelve-year-old son saw him. He had to give it to her, she had a pretty convincing look of disgust on her face, for the sake of her son, but he could see the glint of interest in her eyes. All he could do was cover as much of himself as he could and walk beside them as apologetically as possible.

The eventful morning was almost enough to make him forget the disconcerting news he had received the previous morning. He knew there wasn't much he could do, besides stay unpredictable and try to keep a look-out for a familiar face. He only hoped that them not knowing he was on to them would be an advantage, he but knew that numbers were not on his side in this. Eventually, someone would find him, and he wasn't sure what that reunion would entail. Another troubling thought occurred to him. He wasn't sure if they knew about Chloe, or how much of their "relationship" they knew about. How could he keep her safe as possible, but still see her? He wasn't sure, and the rational part of him told him he needed to leave her alone, but the other part, the part that didn't like to be smart, informed him he wouldn't be able to stay away from her. Not anymore.

Once inside his place, he showered and put some clothes on. He would have to wait for Maze to get up, or at least give her a few hours rest. His wallet and phone were still in her apartment, and he wasn't positive he would be able to get in to retrieve them without her noticing. He'd wait it out. He had plenty of booze, stale food, and pills to keep him alert, and his version of oriented, until he could talk to Maze and come up with a plan.

* * *

**A/N: **OOOOOHHHHH. A little bit of mystery, some intrigue, some phone sex... mmm. What the hell could be happening to this poor chap? Also, who's rooting for them to finally do the deed? I know I am... just waiting for that perfect moment. It's happening, don't you worry. The SMUT will cum. As I hope all of you will ;) Until next time, dark ones... ***wink***


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you to More-More for helping me out with the idea for this chapter. She's my bella Italian friend, and her subtle suggestion really kicked my ass in gear for this ;) For reference, bolded text are text messages.**

* * *

To: administator thegoldengatefirm . uk

From: Charlotte Richards, richards . charlotte usc . edu

Re:re: A Familial Concern

Good morning,

I am so happy that I was able to ease your mind regarding your brother. I do apologize for not being able to provide any more information, per the school's privacy policy. All I am able to inform you is that there is a current student with his name and that they are attending courses.

That being said, I am a family-person, and I appreciate the gravity of your concern for your loved one. I took the liberty in going to your firm's website to get a better understanding of who I was communicating with, in case that became prevalent to Mr. Morningstar's wellbeing.

As you are able to see, my credentials go well beyond Department Chair of USC. I think forming a professional relationship could be beneficial to both sides. Below are a few ways to contact me personally. If you feel so obliged, reach out to see if we can further help one another.

Regards,

Richards, Charlotte

Criminal Justice Department Chair.

To: Charlotte Richards, richards . charlotte usc . edu

From: administrator thegoldengatefirm . uk

Re:re:re: A Familial Concern

Ms. Richards,

I appreciate the promptness in your replies. I do greatly appreciate the information regarding my brother's whereabouts. From our previous correspondence, you could see how concerned my family has been over his wellbeing and location. My parents and siblings cannot express our gratitude enough. You being a family-oriented individual, as you said, plays a part in your assistance, I am sure.

I am glad you did your research. It shows you are intelligent in ensuring the release of any information goes to the proper hands. I can assure you, Lucifer's wellbeing is of upmost importance to my entire family. Knowing he is alive and well in America is the news we were hoping for.

You do have quite the reputation, Ms. Richards, even across the pond. My family is aware of your legal prowess and we even have some mutual acquaintances. Your fellow countrymen, Marcus Pierce, has made his way across the pond, and he has spoken highly of your abilities as a solicitor. I will accept your offer in continuing communication via your contact information below.

I look forward to hearing from you soon, Ms. Richards.

Sincerely,

Gabriel Peacekeeper

The Golden Gate Firm

Charlotte stared at her screen, re-reading the email carefully. She was an intelligent woman, and she was certain that both sides knew exactly who they were playing with. The polite semantics were just a show. She leaned back in her very expensive leather office chair, propping her stilettoed feet up on her desk, index finger between her teeth, contemplating just what she could wrangle out of this Gabriel for whatever information he wanted about Lucifer. The curious side of her wondered what a family member would need help obtaining, but the exploitive side one-out, and she realized it didn't matter, as long as she could get what she wanted in return.

* * *

Friday night, and instead of watching a movie is fuzzy pants with Trixie, Chloe was in her bedroom, trying on different dress options for her department dinner while Ella was wearing fuzzy pants and introducing Trixie to _Star Trek_. With the chaos of the last few weeks, she had completely forgotten about this ridiculous affair she was "highly suggested" to attend (in both the police and administrative worlds, she quickly found out, "highly suggested" meant "fucking be there"). Dan already had plans, so he wasn't able to take her for the evening, and before Chloe had even been able to finish her sentence, Ella had screamed and arrived at her house in an alarmingly quick time. She loved Trixie, and it helped that the young girl adored the forensic tech just as much.

"Okay, Ella, I'm going to try and be back as soon as I possibly can," Chloe insisted, slowly walking down the stairs in her heeled booties. She chose a dark purple dress, hanging off her frame the perfect way, slightly flowing, and the hem hitting her sensibly right above the knee. To make it more appropriate for her colleagues, she added a faux-leather blazer with ¾ length sleeves. She wore her hair in her quintessential high-pony, sleeked back, with minimal makeup on her defined face. Ella had made various cat-call noises when she saw her, but Chloe waved it off as she bent down to kiss Trixie on the top of her head. The girl just barely accepted the affection and tried to dodge to keep her view on the TV while stuffing popcorn into her mouth.

Chloe shoved her playfully before grabbing her bag and yelling out a thank you to Ella, who did not answer, before getting into her car and driving towards the school. Per the email, the entire first floor of the department building was to be turned into a dining area, business-casual (as if that were a dining option), with an open bar. The latter detail had been the only reason she even decided to go. She was going to need an ethanol IV drip to get through the evening, she knew it. She would also need a few drinks to get the thought of Lucifer out of her mind. They hadn't really talked since their _exciting_ phone call the other night, and she had reluctantly informed him of her plans for the evening. She was only slightly let-down that he didn't reply. She was really hoping for some witty comment on being the good girl and playing nice with the other professors; or was she projecting? She wasn't sure.

It took about thirty minutes before she wanted to blow her own head off. She had literally been surrounded by people she didn't care for since the moment she stepped out of her car. One glass of champagne and three glasses of wine down, she was feeling buzzed and irritated. She looked around at all the people hovering around the absurdly large table of finger foods. She had managed to steal bites here and there, but she wasn't a woman that ate delicately. Ram a fucking stead down her throat, not a tiny portion of tuna tartar (although that shit was delicious, as long as she had enough rice to feed half of Tokyo). She was in the middle of chugging her last two gulps of wine when she heard the unmistakable cackle of one Charlotte Richards. It was both anxiety-inducing and relieving, since she needed to show her face to her to prove her attendance before she innocuously vanished from the event.

She made her way towards the laughter and could spot the slender form of the chairwoman through a mildly dense crowd. There was a man standing next to her, slightly shorter due to the already all woman's obsession with heels. He looked sturdy, surely he could handle himself. In her slightly intoxicated mind, she tried to imagine a scenario in which anyone, man or woman, stood a chance next to Ms. Richards. She stifled her laughter just enough to keep herself from choking when the pair turned around. Charlotte wore her crimson lips in a casual smile, while her _date_ for the evening let his mouth drop in horrified surprise at the sight of his ex-wife.

"Chloe, you decided to come after all!" Charlotte praised, leaning forward to press an awkward European-style kiss on her cheek. Chloe planted a smile on her face while staring daggers at Dan in the way only a former spouse could.

"H-hey Chlo," Dan stammered, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I thought you hate these kinds of things." Chloe could see his hairline starting to sweat, and she secretly relished at how off-guard she had caught him. It didn't matter that he was here with someone, it only mattered that he was with the head of her department and he didn't tell her.

"Well, faculty attendance seemed rather expected," Chloe informed him, trying to not sound bitter about her presence. He was right. She really did hate these types of things. Forced comingling.

"I, for one, am happy you braved the crowd," Charlotte interjected, clearly noticing the jelly-thick tension in the air. "If you'll excuse us, I have to keep making the rounds," she finished, adding an annoyed eye roll to the end before looping her arm through Dan's and tugging the still-alarmed man away. He _knew_ Chloe was going to chew his ass out for this.

With her eyebrows just barely lowering from her hairline, she found the quickest way towards the food table and started munching on the room-temperature meats and cheeses. Her phone buzzed in her bag as she got another glass of wine, so she fished it out of the messy, and slightly sticky, chaos as she sat down in a fold-out chair. She pressed her lips together to stifle her grin as she peered down at Lucifer's name across the screen.

**Lucifer: How is your insufferable dinner going? **

It should have bothered her how quickly her mood changed just from his short message, but she chose not to dwell on that at that time. She took a sip of the effervescent alcohol before tapping out her reply, one she hoped he would be proud of.

**Chloe: I'm suffering insufferably **

**Lucifer: Well, we can't have that, now can we?**

She could hear the lilt of his accent, she could see the way his tongue would glide across his bottom lip before pushing against the inside of his cheek, and she knew he was smirking at his phone right now. The combination doing undeniably obscene things to her perfectly sensible underwear. She crossed her legs and downed the rest of her drink before leaning back in the uncomfortable chair to continue the conversation.

**Chloe: Are you going to be my White Knight and come save me from my captors? **

**Lucifer: I'd much prefer to be the Devil on your shoulder, tempting you to do naughty things with everyone around (devil emoji)**

Chloe bit her lip, even with the permanent smile plastered across her lips. She wondered how someone could always know the right things to say. How someone could always be one step ahead of everyone.

**Chloe: Well, my Tempter, what do you suggest? **

She knew inflection and tone were not evident through text, but she also knew that Lucifer would be able to hear her teasing tone, and she hoped he played into it. Seriously, of course he would.

**Lucifer: I want to play a game. **

That was it. That was all he said. She stared at her phone quizzically, uncrossing her legs to throw the bottom one on top. Well, shit. A game to Lucifer could mean a million different things: one of them being completely innocent, and another involving multiple offenses and potential jail time.

**Chloe: Okay. I'll play. **

**Lucifer: You're in the Department building, yes?**

**Chloe: Yeah**

**Lucifer: Go to one of the far walls towards the front**

**Lucifer: You know, where it's always a little dark and secluded**

Chloe stared at her instructions, for they were not exactly what she was expecting. From her seat, she looked around the large, mostly open room and found one such corner he was describing. It was up towards the front, near the main doors, however, there were plenty of juts in the wall where she could stand and be barely noticed. By this point, mostly everyone was well on their way to trashed, so she wasn't all-that concerned. She stood up and slowly made her way over to the corner and stood against the glass wall and a large, potted plant.

**Chloe: I've assumed the position**

**Lucifer: I promise you, the position I'm envisioning is not something to be done discreetly. **

Fuck, if reading those words didn't shoot straight through her entire body. She could only imagine what positions he would have her in, and she had to clear her throat before she started hyperventilating. She was brought back to reality with her phone vibrating in her palm.

**Lucifer: Ready to start?**

**Chloe: Been waiting. **

**Lucifer: Ooooh. Sassy. I like it, Professor. **

She was giving credit to the warm buzz going on in her head to her behavior. The magic of alcohol, when done properly, was that you could reach that perfect level of intoxication where the world no longer seemed fucked and you no longer hated every single human being you ran into. Also, any reserve she felt seemed to be blown out the fucking window, so there was that.

**Lucifer: Really simple. Take your panties off. **

Chloe stared at the screen, blank-faced, for what seemed like an eternity. How the hell was this a game? There was a flush on her cheeks, and she hadn't even considered the ramifications of the instruction.

**Lucifer: I know what you're thinking, but I have absolute confidence in your ability to shimmy out of whatever scrap of fabric you're wearing without raising suspicion. **

He was probably right. No one noticed she walked over here, no one would notice a little hip wiggling, either. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing even without (hopefully) an audience. Sliding her phone into her bag before adjusting the strap on her shoulders, she pinched the fabric of her underwear over her dress and pulled down, doing just as Lucifer had said, shimmying the scrap down. She was able to get them down low enough to discreetly reach under her hem and let them fall to the ground. She immediately looked around the room to ensure no one was looking as she stepped out of the thong, thankful for the rubber heels of her booties. She slyly bent down and grabbed the tiny wad of her panties and stuffed it into her bag before retrieving her phone.

**Chloe: Okay, they're off. **

**Lucifer: If you're by the books, go sit in one of the chairs facing away from the room. **

She definitely was on the side of the room by the books. It had the best shadows and best hiding places. She cautiously went and sat in one of the plush, too-firm-for-leather chairs, careful to keep her dress _under_ her very exposed delicate skin. A part of her felt ridiculous, but another part of her was getting off on the thrill. It was exciting, and definitely not something she had done since her acting days. She was about to text that she was sitting, but he beat her to it. However, instead of a text, he was calling her.

"_Well, good evening, Professor," _his words came out smooth as melted chocolate into her ear, and it made her entire body shiver. _"I do hope you're not catching a draft now that you're down one layer."_

She pressed her knees together and let out an almost silent chuckle. "I hardly notice such a small layer missing," she teased into the phone, knowing that would make him smile. She heard him lightly laugh on the other end, and she ignored the way that made her chest feel tight. "So now that you have me sitting, would you like me to go full Sharon Stone and practice my _Basic Instincts_ leg-switch?"

"_Oh, I forgot I'm speaking to Sassy Professor tonight,"_ he replied, trying to sound snarky, but she could tell he was very amused. _"Touch yourself."_ His words came out quickly, authoritatively, without any hint of playful mirth and every ounce of devilish tempter.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, although she knew exactly what he was talking about. Surely he wouldn't have her do that in such a public setting. Surely he didn't think she _would_ do that in such a private setting.

"_Don't play coy now, Professor," _he crooned through her phone. _"You've been such a good sport so far, It'd be a shame to miss out on your prize." _

He was such a teasing bastard. But she loved it. She nervously peered around the room again, and was not surprised that nothing seemed to have changed from ten minutes ago. People were still drinking, still eating, and still talking _way_ more than necessary. No one would even bother to come looking for her. "Lucifer, this is crazy," she whisper-yelled into her phone, wishing he could see the glare in her eyes. "I already don't have underwear on, and now you want me to do _that_ in the middle of the fucking Department dinner?"

"_Quitters don't get sprinkles, Professor," _he sighed, and she could hear the faint hint of a slur in his words. Oh, so he'd been drinking, too. That explains the impromptu take-your-panties-off-and-touch-yourself game. _"And trust me, I've got good sprinkles." _

She rolled her eyes at how ridiculous a statement that was, but how quickly arousal was pooling between her thighs. Seriously, how did that man manage to make sprinkles sound sexy and like she desperately needed his sprinkles. "These sprinkles better be legendary," she gritted out, listening to him chuckle into her ear, the slosh of liquid evident close to the phone. Using all the incognito skill she had, she slid down in the chair ever-so-slightly and placed her bag in her lap. She was grateful for the loose fit of the dress because she was able to reach under the hem without making it look obvious, especially with her hand under her bag. She already knew she was getting wet, but she groaned at how wet she was, something she was only slightly embarrassed about.

"_Mmmm, you're wet aren't you?" _he asked, his voice sounding slightly desperate for the information. She hummed her response and was met by his own low moan. _"Every time I've touched you, you've been so fucking wet." _His words rolled off his tongue, flowing through the speaker of her phone and straight to her pulsing channel. She bit back a louder groan as two fingers easily slid through her folds and over her clit. _"Tell me, which do you like better, my fingers or my tongue?"_

She gasped louder than intended, but she didn't stop her fingers from gliding through her slick heat to press into her swelling hole. She thought hard about his question, and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure. They were both so good, but one made her feel alive like nothing else, so that's what she went with. "You're tongue." She heard him inhale sharply, followed by the wet sound of him licking his lips.

"_I think that's my favorite, too," _he admitted quietly, voice trailing off as if he were reminiscing. _"I love sliding my tongue through those smooth lips," _he continued, and she mimicked his words with her fingers, sliding them through her folds the way he tongue would. _"I would taste you for hours, if you would let me." _He groaned out his last statement as if it were a plea. A high-pitched whine was barely muffled behind her lips as she circled her clit with her slick fingers.

"I would let you," she huffed out, her hips undulating into the squeaky, cheap upholstery of the chair. At this point, she didn't care if certain parts of her touched the same seat hundreds of students, in various stages of cleanliness, had touched, she just wanted to keep getting closer and closer to exploding in the middle of the Department dinner on the phone with her sexy student-TA.

"_I'll hold you to that," _he warned, his tone sounding more and more wrecked as he spoke_. "I'll eat you out until you're crying, begging for mercy." _She was just barely hanging on; her fingers weren't even moving fast, but the situation and his voice were bringing everything to an alarmingly quick crest, she wasn't sure if she was going to scream or cry when she came. _"Are you close?"_

"Oh, yes," she gasped, her own hand starting to falter as her thighs squeezed together for some purchase. She knew what she had to look like, but she was beyond worrying about that. She was more worrying about whatever obscene wet mark she was going to leave behind on the rich red vinyl of the chair.

"_I'll have mercy on you," _he said lowly, another slosh of liquid and the faint pop of wet lips echoed through her hazy, pleasure-drunk mind._ "Go to your office, I want you to cum there." _At that point, Sassy Professor had been retired for the evening, because she didn't need to be told twice to immediately get up and head straight for the door. She managed to keep her phone to her ear as she nearly ran to her office from the main building. Once outside of the door, she fumbled around in her bag for her keys and shakily inserted the metal key into the lock. Before she could finish turning, the lock clicked and the door was pulled open from the inside. She didn't have time to gasp or scream before a large, warm hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her into the dark room, whisky-dipped lips attaching to her mouth expertly.

She knew it was him before the office door was shut. She could smell him: the faint scent of cigarettes, alcohol, and his cologne flooded her senses as he pressed her against the back of the door. She felt her bag slip off her shoulder, falling to the ground, along with the keys and her phone. Worrying about those things was quickly pushed out of her mind by his body pressing into hers. The kiss was greedy, hungry, frantic, and she felt his teeth against her lips before his mouth traveled down to her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at the locks until she knew it would sting his scalp. He growled roughly under her ear before hauling her up with his hands under her ass. She dug her heels into the curve of his glutes, her knees drawn up around his sides. Her exposed, wet flesh pressed harshly against the cool metal of his belt and she hissed at the sensation. Instead of pulling back, he dug his hips forward, repeating the movement until she was writhing against his hold on her.

Their breaths were ragged and loud, and she could feel every hot pant against her skin as he started nipping at her collarbone. His fingers started to inch closer to her center from his hold on her ass, and she wiggled to help him along. As soon as his middle finger made contact with a glistening trail of arousal moving down her thigh, a feral growl escaped his throat as he shoved her back down to the ground. She let out a soft grunt as his mouth collided with hers quickly before he turned her around and shoved her towards the wooden desk, bending her over the edge and sinking down to his knees between her legs. Chloe barely had time to gasp and cling to the desk for dear life before his tongue was plunging impossibly deep inside her. His hands were shoving her dress up over her ass to bunch around her waist while he licked and lapped at every bit of her essence he could reach.

The noises he was making were obscene, so erotically obscene they could be considered biological weapons. His hands trailed back down to grasp at the round globes of her ass, spreading her open so his mouth could cover every inch of her delicate, wet skin. It was forceful, aggressive, and everything she could have ever wanted at that moment. It was thrilling; the rush, the danger, the outright brutality of it made her want to scream, but their location kept her under control. Although alcohol was coursing through their veins, giving them just enough inhibition to keep their noises down, she would have let this happen. She needed it. She wanted it more than air. Hell, he _really_ seemed to need it. She had never been so enthusiastically eaten out before, and it was literally a religious experience.

Her first orgasm hit her hard, and it lasted forever, mostly due to Lucifer's groans vibrating against her clit as he frantically drank up every ounce of her arousal that was squeezed out by her walls clamping in a chaotic rhythm. All she could do was allow her upper body to go limp across the desk as he gave her no break and continued to lick her from clit to her puckered hole. If this were a game, he reached Legendary status when he focused his attention on the tight ring of muscle of her ass and shoved two slick fingers into her pussy. She felt him shift behind her while his free hand reached down and grabbed her ankle, pulling her foot into his lap. He pressed the sole of her bootie against the hard ridge of his covered cock. He moaned against her flesh loudly and started to roll his hips up to get much needed friction. Chloe realized she was chanting something, whether it be his name or righteous prayer of thanks to whatever gods created him, and she reveled in the feel of her hips banging into her desk with a tongue on her ass and two fingers fucking her without abandon.

Sometime after her second orgasm, she felt as if he was keeping her there, bent over her desk and hips biting into the wood, with his face, and if that wasn't just pure fucking magic, she wasn't sure what was. She would never doubt his sincerity again, because it seemed he really was going to eat her out until she begged him to stop, and why the hell would she ever do that? Within the euphoric mist her brain was in after two ridiculous orgasms by British mouth, she still managed to be surprised when he took his tongue out of her long enough to turn her around and push her back down against the desk. His hands pressed the backs of her thighs down as he kissed and teased her soaking-wet flesh before sucking gently on her swollen clit. Reaching down, she buried her fingers in his hair and tugged, unsure if she was wanting to push him against her harder, or pull him up to taste herself in his mouth. She was certain that after all his efforts, he would be tasting her for a week. Colgate be damned!

Chloe pulled and pulled on his hair, and he only moaned and groaned in response, never letting up on the delicate flicks of his tongue or warm suction of his mouth. He was still just as enthusiastic as when he started, the sparkle in his lust-crazed eyes only made her want to roll her hips up into his mouth more. He was perfect, she thought, absolutely, without a doubt, perfect. Well, at least with his face between her legs. Perfection aside, he was, also, breathtakingly gorgeous, his dark eyes even darker with the lack of light in her office, and those eyes bored into her soul, pulling her deeper and deeper into whatever well of desire he was taking her. She felt, yet, another orgasm forming deep inside her fluttering walls and she threw her head back loudly against the desk. Her back arched and she felt his hands trail from her legs up to cup her breasts and squeeze the mounds of flesh with just the right about of pressure. Her third release overwhelmed her body as his tongue circled her throbbing clit and he caught her leaking essence on his bottom lip.

He strung her out until she was a convulsing mess before kissing up her body, tongue sliding up the length of her throat before diving into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and cupped the sides of his cheeks in pure adoration. She hissed against his lips as his belt made contact with her wrecked, sodden skin. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down enough to make him grunt and glare at her with carnal need.

"Holy fuck," she whispered after she released his swollen lip, doing her best to keep her eyes from rolling back into her skull after that onslaught of oral pleasure.

"I told you, I could do that all night," he reminded her, his voice deep and gravely, and that did absolute _wonders_ to her already dripping center. She studied his features for another second before pulling him back down to her for another searing kiss. She could feel the slickness of her arousal coating the entire lower half of his face, so she allowed herself to lick along his jaw and around his chin, earning her several long, deep moans.

"It's my turn now," she commanded against his cheek, pushing against him until he was standing between her thighs, and she was able to see him biting his lip in her night-adjusted vision. She was feeling bold, sexy, and powerful, and he made her feel that way. The least she could do was repay the favor. Besides, she had yet had the opportunity to put his, undoubtedly, beautiful cock in her mouth. She slowly leaned up, sliding her feet down to the ground before grabbing at the collar of his shirt and roughly turning them around to push him against the desk. He let her move him bodily, smirking as he leaned on the edge, hands gripping the wood tightly by his hips. She held his gaze as she lowered herself to her knees, hands going to the belt that had been teasing her. His breath hitched slightly as the buckle flew open and she hungrily unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks. She could see and feel the bulge and as she tugged his pants down, the hard length of his cock sprang free of its fabric prison, and Lucifer gasped in relief.

She really tried not to gape at it, she really did, but she's only human. It was just as amazing as she thought it would be. Absolutely perfect in every way. Perfect length, slightly intimidating girth, and just the right curve to slide down her throat. He was uncircumcised, but she was familiar with that. Dan wasn't circumcised either, not that she could possibly be thinking about him when Lucifer's dick was bobbing tantalizingly in front of her. She licked her lips and he hummed in approval as she wrapped both hands around the base before bringing her tongue to the head. She pressed the flat of her tongue against the sensitive underside and licked a slow line up to the slit. A slightly louder moan ripped from his throat as he leaned his head back, exposing his neck and that delicious, thick vein along the side.

Chloe intended to give as good as she got, so she slid her plump lips down his aching member, tongue pressing against it, until the head reached the back of her throat. She squeezed her hands, bringing one up along with her mouth to stroke as she bobbed up and down at a leisurely pace. For Chloe, sucking dick was never a problem, however, it's hard to enjoy a rod trying to go down your throat if the owner of said rod is playing the "strong silent type". There's nothing fun about a silent man when his dick is in your mouth. Lucifer, was no such man. She could literally sit on her knees, mouth full of cock, and watch him unravel in front of her. The small, strangled noises he made, followed by the deep, guttural growls, the way his chest would heave with each breath, his lips parted when they weren't between his teeth, and those intoxicating hip jerks were the best goddamn show she'd ever seen.

She worked her tongue over every inch of him that she could, stroking him wetly with one hand, the other cupping his balls, rolling gently. After all, this wasn't her first rodeo. In the darkness, she couldn't see his hand reach out to land on the top of her head, urging her movements on. She loved the way his fingers dug into her head with enough pressure to guide her pace and depth. She felt him shift slightly, the hand on her head moving back to grip her pony-tail and the other moved down to cup beneath her chin, using the leverage to slightly thrust into her mouth. She welcomed his action, moving her hands down to wrap around the backs of his thighs to hold herself steady for him.

"It's so fucking good," he groaned out lowly, slightly breathless. She moaned around him from the praise, and that earned her a particularly deep thrust. She gagged slightly, and he pulled her off, giving her time to breathe and relax her jaw. She could see the glint of teeth in the dark and knew he was smiling at her. With that smile, a warm, affectionate feeling welled up in her stomach, and she wanted nothing more than to know what he tasted like. She wet her lips before sucking him back in and trying not to smile as he let out a string of swears. "Your mouth is amazing, holy _shit." _His words came out strangled, desperate, and beautiful, and she knew he was getting close. She put her all into it; loving the responses she was dragging out of him. What he was doing now, she could only imagine what noises he could make while fucking her.

He was thoroughly enjoying Chloe's mouth wrapped so tightly around his cock. He had had countless blowjobs, some he remembered, others he didn't, and none even came close to the caliber of Chloe Decker. She was absolutely beautiful, her mouth wide around him, her huge blue eyes staring up at him, twinkling from the moonlight creeping in under the door. He gripped her hair harder and cupped the side of her face, allowing her to move at her leisure, but gently rocking up into her mouth. He felt his balls tighten and pull up towards his body, the tell-tale tingling in his loins marking his near climax. She hummed around his length and that sent him falling frantically over the edge. He was grateful that she let him fuck into her mouth, but loved the way she pulled back, her mouth open beneath the head of his cock while the last drops of his cum fell to her tongue.

She hardly had time to swallow before he was hauling her up into his lap, the heels of her shoes banging loudly on the flat of the desk behind him. In the most obscene and erotic move, he reached out and licked a small line of his cum off her chin, letting his tongue glide up over her bottom lip before filling her mouth with it. She moaned into his mouth, his tongue licking behind her teeth, and she could taste both him and herself. "I can't believe you did that," she gasped, pulling back enough to look him directly in the eyes.

"Well, when a gorgeous woman is sucking your soul out through your cock, release is imminent," he said as seriously as if she had asked him about the weather.

"No, not that," she berated, rolling her eyes, although she wasn't sure if he could see that. "You kissed me."

"Yes, I did," he replied flatly, and she could make out the slight tilt in his head as he observed her. She heard him click his tongue along the roof of his mouth before sighing heavily, and she could barely make out the smirk on his lips. "I get it now, It's my cock, I've been told it can make people a little incognizant, but it's only temporary," he continued, but was cut off by a quick slap against his chest. He chuckled before nudging his nose against hers and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"But you came in my mouth," she stated, scrunching her nose and leaning back to see his eyes slightly shiny in the darkness. "You licked your cum off my chin then kissed me."

"Ah," he replied knowingly, suddenly aware of her confusion and sense of awe. "I've had far worse in my mouth before, trust me." He licked his lips and kissed her again, deeply but gently.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, pressing her forehead against his.

"You don't want to know," he assured her, wrapping his arms around her tighter, pressing their lips together again. It started as a string of short, delicate pecks, but quickly turned into a more heated affair. Her hands found their way back into his thick hair and his teeth scraped down her throat before nipping at the junction of her shoulder. They both became very aware of their contact; her naked, wet center grinding against his already-hard-again cock, and they stopped in their tracks, breaths held, staring at each other. She wanted it. She wanted it so bad, and she could see he wanted it just as much, maybe more. She slowly reached down between them, under the hem of her dress, and stroked his cock against her. He inhaled sharply, pressing his open mouth along her jaw, his teeth digging into the skin against bone. She started to lift her hips, the slightest movement and she would be able to sink down over every glorious inch of him. The head of his cock brushed against her soaked, silky lips and she held her breath, ready to impale herself, when a gentle knock on the door broke the spell.

"Hey, Chloe," Dan's voice called out, slightly muffled on the other side of the office door. She and Lucifer stared at each other, completely frozen, unsure of what to do next. "Hey, I saw you walk out this direction and figured you might be in here. Just wanted to check on you." Chloe cursed herself in her head; of course this would be happening. She hoped that maybe if she didn't answer, he would assume she wasn't there, no lights were on, thankfully, no reason to think she was in the dark. That being said, she could talk him away, and wouldn't have to explain why she didn't answer the door if he saw her walk back towards the parking garage. At least, that's what her slightly buzzed brain thought.

As quietly and as delicately as he could, Lucifer stood and lowered her to the ground, making absolutely no nose. He held her hand as they walked towards the door and pressed himself against the wall next to the opening. As she reached her hand out towards the door, Lucifer quickly grabbed her wrist, halting her actions before bending down and soundlessly moving her forgotten phone, keys, and bag out of the way. He smiled at her from his crouched position before standing back up and pressing himself as close to the wall as he could. Chloe quickly adjusted her dress, making sure nothing seemed too frazzled and opened the door half-way. "Hey, Dan," she started, looking up at him as innocently as possible. "Yeah, I just wanted to get out of there, and had a little too much to drink to drive right away." She hoped admitting that would make it more realistic for her to be there.

"Yeah, I figured. I know you hate things like this," he said, a crooked smile on his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervous. Hopefully, he wouldn't want to stand in this awkwardness any longer. "Look, I was going to tell you about Charlotte."

Chloe sighed in relief, happy to change the subject to him and not her. "Dan, it's fine, you're allowed to see whoever you want." She leaned against the door, giving him her sweetest smile. Hell, if Charlotte Richards _somehow_ made him happy, great. Great for him.

"I know, I just, I didn't want to surprise you like that. I really didn't expect you to come tonight." He looked so fucking guilty, it was almost sad, but then Chloe remembered how big of a douche he could be at times, and got over it.

"Look, it's fine. I don't care," she assured him, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on his forearm. "I'm fine. I'm just working off this buzz before driving home. I don't want to be influenced into Ella's shenanigans when I get there," she added with a wink. Mentioning Ella worked, and it got Dan to smile before clapping a hand over hers on his arm.

"Okay, well, call me if you end up needing a ride," he said before slowly walking away. Chloe watched him round the corner before she shut the door and took her first full, deep breath.

"He really has a knack for interrupting pleasurable experiences for you, doesn't he?" Lucifer's voice asks from where he was plastered against the wall. She watched as he tucked himself back into his pants, fastening everything into place. He bent down and grabbed her belongings, tossing the keys and phone into her bag and slipping it onto her shoulder. He placed one hand on her cheek, the other tipped her chin up towards his face so he could kiss her softly. Their lips lingered against each other, tongues just barely touching skin before he pulled away, regretfully. "Go on ahead, I'll wait here a while."

"You sure?" she asked, although she knew it was the safest option for them. Part of her wanted to stay, wanted to go right back to where they were before Dan so _rudely _interrupted them, but she knew this was for the best. It wasn't how they wanted it to happen.

"Yeah," he replied, smiling at her and opening the door as he stood behind it.

She started to step out and reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "Talk soon?" It wasn't really a question, more a statement of reassurance, for who, she wasn't sure.

"Of course," he whispered, squeezing her hand back before letting it go. Chloe walked out of her office, listening as the door shut quietly behind her, and made her way towards the parking garage. The cool, night air felt great on her heated skin, and a slight breeze reminded her that she still didn't have any underwear on.

She made it all the way back to her car before her phone went off in her bag. Once settled in the seat, she cranked the car and looked at her phone, smiling and shaking her head.

**Lucifer: So, how many did I get out of you?**

**Lucifer: I counted three.**

**Chloe: You're ridiculous. **

**Lucifer: So… three?**

**Chloe: Yes, three ;)**

**Lucifer: I told you you'd like my sprinkles.**

**Lucifer: I'll get you to five next time :P**

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**A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed that. I know I did, if I can be so bold as to say… Not sure where that came from, but I'm okay that it happened. The beast took over, and Satan bless her, she went for it. Thanks for reading and commenting, lovely darklings. Until next time…. *fades into the darkness, trips, and then fades quicker* I never claimed to be graceful.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Okay... so, here we go. I'm just going to let you guys dive right in. More notes at the bottom. I'll warn you, there's probably a ton of mistakes, but I got a little excited, you'll understand once you get to the end and read the end notes. So, I hope you enjoy this plot-progression chapter! Lots of Lucifer POV here. **

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"What the _actual FUCK!_" Lucifer yelled, muffled by his hand covering his nose and upper lip. Blood started pouring out of both nostrils and down his chin from a very well-placed punch, but Maze just scowled and moved past him in his doorway.

"No, what the actual fuck, to you, asshole," she sneered, turning around to face him as he closed and locked the door. It was early afternoon, and she had waited until she had cooled down some before barging over to his apartment. He had opened the door, hair a mess, his eyes half-open, wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants, and she had promptly punched him in the face when the door was wide enough.

"What have I done to you?" he questioned, tilting his head up to try and stop the bleeding. He sounded nasally and she could see blood collecting in his mouth, and that made her happy. "I don't remember asking you to punch me in the face, and the last time I did it was mid-orgasm, and-"

"Well, after you tell me your family contacted the school to verify your whereabouts, and you actually seemed quite concerned about it, I figured you'd be a bit fucking smarter than your dick!" She cut him off, her voice rising with every word. "Then I see you coming in last night, happy as a fucking clam, and I just knew it. You went and saw her, didn't you?" she asked, her tone accusatory. He glared at her, walking into his kitchen to grab the towel hanging from the oven. He pressed the cloth against his nose, doing his best to not let the knowing guilt show over his perturbed expression.

"Lucifer, we talked about this," Maze reminded him, her voice just minutely softer. "Until we figure out what's going on with your family, you can't go see her outside of class. She can't be seen as more than your teacher right now." She crossed her arms below her chest, trying to ignore the slight throb in her right hand. She might have broken his nose; she wasn't exactly gentle.

"I was careful," he mumbled, and he didn't even convince himself of the rationality of that. He rolled his eyes are her flat expression before pushing past her to sit on his couch and apply pressure to his potentially broken nose.

"No, Lucifer, you weren't," she retorted, watching as he walked by and sat down, grumbling in the way only he could while looking like a half-naked, statuesque piece of art. Although she was very well acquainted with the scars on his back, the markings always seemed to make her angry with quote-on-quote _family_ that did that to him. "If you're being watched, they're going to start noticing a pattern with her. They'll notice there's something there."

Lucifer held her stare for a split second before dropping his gaze to his knees, slightly shifting in his seat. "There's nothing there," he said far-too quietly for anyone to believe him. At this point, he wasn't even trying to talk sense into himself. He knew he was fucked, but no one else needed to know that.

"Then why haven't you fucked her yet? Or moved on, like with _literally_ everyone else?" she emphasized the second to last word with pointed fingers. Her pointed eyebrow, the one with the neatly shaved space, raised up, awaiting his response.

"Apparently all of this," he chimed, free hand waving about himself up and down. "Doesn't immediately splay her legs like everyone else."

Maze stared at him for a moment, her expression softening when she could see that he had no idea how to admit he felt something for that woman. "She had a kid. You have to be smart. For her," she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper. She walked closer to him, her heeled boots clunking on the ground with each step. "You can't let them know about her. At all."

It took him a few seconds, but Lucifer eventually turned his gaze back to Maze and nodded his head softly. She watched as he closed his eyes, his head barely shaking back and forth as he sighed, loudly, and returned back to his apathetic self. "If you've permanently disfigured me, we won't have to worry about anyone getting caught in the crosshairs," he grumbled, wincing as he adjusted the bloody cloth over his nose. A few drops of blood had dropped onto his chest, and the rather large sick part of Maze wanted to bend down and lick them off, but they weren't like that anymore.

With a slight chuckle, Maze reached into the leather saddle-bag strapped to her thigh and pulled out two tightly wrapped OB tampons, although Lucifer had absolutely no fucking clue what they were. She swung her leg over his and straddled the middle of his thighs, allowing herself to look him over with a smirk. She pulled the kitchen towel away from his face and ignored the grimace he made as she tossed it aside. Before much more blood could drop onto his chest, she shoved one tampon into each nostril with enough force to make him cry out.

"Perfect for bullet holes," she whispered to him with a smile, admiring her work of possibly making him a fraction of a percentage less attractive with his nose stuffed and two strings hanging out of each side. "And bloody noses." However, much to her dismay, his ridiculous scowl at her words made up that percentage rather quickly. She reached up and patted the side of his face, hard enough to earn a small grunt, before standing and swinging her leg back over his so she could leave his apartment. She shut the door behind her, nothing else needing to be said between them, for now. She'd let him wallow in whatever emotions he actually felt until he needed to talk to her again.

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To say she had expected to hear from him that weekend would be accurate. Sure, she had vaguely discussed the Department dinner, and he seemed to be intelligent enough to put two and two together, so his appearing in her office was not the most surprising thing he could have done. Hell, he could have waltzed his ass into the department building, made a scene, and then met up with her to lick her inside-out. She should be grateful he had used tact. However, not receiving some snarky quip about getting her underwear off without even being present seemed strange. She was a fucking grown woman, and she was still worried about texting him and coming off clingy. He didn't do clingy, she _shouldn't_ do clingy being post-divorce. It was fine.

She did text him on Monday, hoping that asking him a question regarding his TA position, one they seemed to just ignore completely, would be a good enough excuse to start-up a dialogue. It seemed ridiculous, they had literally had each other's genitals in their mouths, yet she couldn't gather the courage to just fucking call. He replied with a very concise, _professional_ response to email him the documents and he'd go over them and make suggestions. **Professional. **She just stared at the screen, her brows knitted together, and wondered what the _actual_ fuck had happened.

She went into her office later that day to make herself visible to other administrators. When she opened the door, she was met with an absolute mess that she hadn't seen in the dark on Friday. Crumbled papers littered the floor, as well as the knocked-over whiskey bottle that had apparently been on the desk and flown halfway across the room sometime between orgasm one and two. Luckily, it seemed to have been empty, so no heavy, permanent alcohol scene coming from the carpet. Miracles did happen. She stayed for a few hours and decided to head home, thinking she had made-face that she, indeed, did work long enough. Once home, she received an email notification from Lucifer with the revised documents, as well as a few suggestions. She was relieved that he still seemed to have a sense of humor in regards to her "boring, boring, boring" history lesson on blood spatter analysis. However, his curt "I will be working a lot of nights," and "I'll see you in class, Professor," at the end of the message left her feeling a little dejected.

Granted, she didn't know him very well, but from what she did know, his behavior didn't seem normal. It didn't seem to be the behavior of a man strung out on drugs and alcohol, like the man from class all those weeks ago, but rather one trying to distance himself. That, or maybe he was just really busy. She knew that mid-terms were right around the corner, and with him working nights, maybe he just needed extra study-time. Or something. She took a deep breath and pushed away any ridiculous thoughts. They weren't anything. He didn't need to tell her anything that wasn't pertinent to class. That didn't mean she didn't want him to, though. Regardless, she told herself that she was going to be done worrying about shit she wasn't even sure she needed to worry about.

Tuesday went by without a single word from him, and she could no longer try to rationalize the reasons in her head. She wasn't angry, or jealous, or anything like that. She just wanted to know what had happened. They had left on a good note Friday night, or at least she thought they had. Who the hell knows? Lucifer wasn't the most stable person she could be physically or emotionally invested in. The only person she had to blame was herself for fucking around with a student. A tall, sexy, British, oral-sex God, student/TA, younger man. Perhaps he got his taste (ha) and no longer cared about getting into her pants. That would be easy, if that were the case. She would scrape her pride and dignity off of the ground, fix her makeup, and move the fuck on. Like the grown-ass woman she was. However, she knew it wasn't that simple. That casual.

On Wednesday morning, she found she had a sort of nervous energy, much like the second week of teaching, after she had met him. The same anticipation of seeing him, of wondering what he was going to say, or look like. She had half expected him to meet her at her office before class, but no such thing occurred. He arrived in the classroom approximately two minutes before the metaphorical bell and sat in the middle pew; not in the front, not in the back, in the very middle. Literally as indifferent a position anyone could sit in. He wasn't the eager first-rower, or the kill-me-now back-rower. He was the fucking _yeah-I'm-here-leave-me-alone_ middle-rower. The fact she understood seat position politics of the younger generations scared her, just a little.

She went through the entire lesson without a single sarcastic interjection from him. He, however, appeared relatively normal with everyone else. The girls that glanced at him all received a knowing smirk, and the one boy got a _very_ intentional wink. She watched the entire thing play-out as if she were the one-woman audience to some half-assed show. _Lucifer: Laying Down the Charm Half-Cocked, a Musical_. When she was finished, she dismissed the class with a few minutes to spare, and she lightly tapped his arm as he tried to walk past her towards the door. She tried to hide the hurt at his disappointed posture, but he stopped and waited for the two of them to be alone before he turned around to face her.

"Hey," she said softly, a hint of a question in the simple greeting. She watched as he fixed a smile on his face, and maybe that hurt more than the detachment he emanated.

"Good morning, Professor," he replied softly, a false bravado in his tone. His eyes darted between the door and the windows rapidly, as if he were waiting for someone to interrupt them. She couldn't help the quizzical look on her face; he just wasn't acting anything like himself. Even before anything had happened between them, he flirted shamelessly. Why was he suddenly so docile?

"I've never been one to beat around the bush," she started, crossing her arms and eyeing him with suspicion, much like she used to when she wanted to make witnesses or suspects uneasy. "So, what's going on?"

"Nothing," he answered too-quickly. He reasoned with himself, not wanting to lie, but _really _unable to tell the entire truth. "I just have a lot on my plate right now. That's all." He finished his excuse with a small smile, and Chloe could see the slightest twinkle of sincerity in his gaze.

"Okay," she affirmed, nodding her understanding of being busy. She knew there was more to it, but she wouldn't pry, too hard. "So, we're good? I haven't done anything to piss you off?"

"No," he assured her, his hand automatically reaching out to hers. Chloe sighed in relief at the grasp and she squeezed his hand in response. "I don't even know if that's possible."

"Okay, I just, I wanted to make sure because you suddenly stopped sending me inappropriate texts at even more inappropriate times-" and she was cut off by his mouth crashing down on hers. It was slow, deep, and haunting. His arms wound around her tightly, pulling her against him and forcing her face straight up. She clung to his upper arms in an attempt to keep herself steady and melted into the heat of his embrace. All felt fine again. Funny, that.

The way his lips lingered around hers, the soft puff of air against her face, felt as if he were savoring it. Taking in all the details, every last feel of her mouth. When he pulled away, just slightly, his expression spoke of longing and regret; eyes closed tight, brows pinched together. "I'm sorry I've been distant," he breathed against her lips, his nose nudging along hers. "I just have some stuff I have to deal with." He said it with a small smile, and while she was wondered what that could mean, she believed him. She had no reason not to.

"Okay," she whispered back, mirroring his same smile and squeezing his arms one last time. She wanted to say more, but didn't. She reminded herself that this wasn't a thing. It wasn't anything serious. They were fucking around because it was scandalous, exciting, and exactly what they needed. She needed the spontaneity and recklessness he could provide, while she kept him grounded just enough to keep him from total self-destruction.

"I'll contact you tonight, at some point, yeah?" he stated, hoping that would be enough to stave her off. Seeing her worried about what she had done to cause his behavior was hurting him more than he thought it would. He wanted nothing more than to continue to annoy her openly and undress her privately, but he knew he would hate himself if something happened to her on his account. When she nodded he gave her one final peck, a chaste farewell, and quickly walked out of the lecture hall, leaving her to worry her bottom lip between her teeth behind the door.

* * *

Lucifer let his anger wash over him like the welcomed warmth of fire licking at his skin as soon as Chloe was out of his sight. Five years of nothing. Five years of being completely free of them, and they decided to put an effort into finding him now. He didn't want to sound like a petulant child, but it was unfair. It was cruel. To finally be in a place that didn't' have him drinking himself to unconsciousness nightly, to taking whatever drugs women passed to him from their tongues. To fucking anything and everything that looked at him for more than two seconds. Hell, they didn't even have to have two legs; there had been a few that were down an appendage or two.

Then there was Charlotte fucking Richards, and her relationship with the douche detective Dan. There was something to that, he knew it; his former crime-thug senses were tingling with corruption there. He made his way to her office, taking the stairs up two at a time and not bothering with knocking when he reached her door. He let himself in and closed the door harder than necessary. Charlotte was sitting at her desk, pen dangling between long fingers, and she didn't even flinch at the intrusion.

"Mr. Morningstar, I didn't realize we had an appointment," she said flatly, eyes remaining on her computer screen, not even taking a second to glance up at him. For some reason, that rubbed him the wrong way more than it should. Any other day he wouldn't have cared if she even spoke to him before their arranged _encounters_, but today, his nerves were shot and his temper was flaring.

"We didn't, but I'm here, so let's do this," he replied, mirroring the same flat tone. It took her another moment before she looked over towards him, her brows slightly raised in mild disbelief at the notion that he could call any shots.

"You think that's how this thing works?" she asked incredulously, tilting her head to the side with a slightly amused smirk on her lips. She sighed heavily when he gave her no response and she turned her attention back to her screen. "Why are you even here? You know I always call when you have a duty to fulfil. When _I _decide you're needed." She made a point to remind him that she was, in fact, the one making the demands; he was simply there to put out.

"Because I'm not in a great mood today, Charlotte," Lucifer stated, his tone flat and daunting. "And, if you recall, those on the other end of this," he continued, motioning towards his crotch and gaining her attention back. "Tend to get exactly what they need. Especially when I have some tension to work out."

"Oh, and you think you know what I need?" Charlotte asked incredulously. She crossed her slender arms across her perky chest and tilted her head while looking at him. Her expression ranged from surprise to impressed, and that's when he knew he had her. "Seems like you're needing something just as much as you presume I do."

"I do. It looks like you need someone to take that stick you've had shoved up your ass for weeks and replace it with something else." He tilted his head back, his chin raising defiantly while the tip of his tongue darted along his bottom lip. He watched as she observed him for a full minute, taking in his aggressive stance and the apathy in his eyes. She gave him a challenging look as she kicked off her heels, and that's when he locked the door and did exactly what he said he would.

Once he returned to his apartment building, he remembered to park farther away and took the back entrance. He went straight for Maze's apartment because he had made plans to meet her there, so he wouldn't walk in on any of her other money-making hobbies. She answered the door with two tumblers of amber liquid, three fingers each. He graciously took one and immediately downed the contents before he made it through the threshold. "Already, huh?" she asked, although not surprised, and refilled his glass after shutting the door.

"Don't want to talk about it," he informed her lowly, taking the glass with a nod of thanks and sipping at it gingerly. "Find out anything?" He walked over to her couch and sat down, elbows leaning against his knees as he waited for her to join him.

"I couldn't find anything other than the email to the school," she said, grimacing at the lack of information. "However, it was signed by a Gabriel Peacekeeper, so it doesn't look like he's trying to hide at all." With that, Lucifer groaned, taking a large gulp from the tumbler. "I went in and scrubbed your phone, no trackers or anything like that, and I made sure nothing to hack into it without me knowing about it."

"Thanks," he said, relief flooding his system that, hopefully, information regarding Chloe was safe, for the time being. "Do you know if he or any of them are here?"

"As far as commercial travel, no," she said, but he could just sense the _but_ clinging to her voice. "However, I can't get info on private charters or anything like that. At least not yet, my connection is working on it." She could see the worry still in eyes and the way he was slightly shaking the glass. She wanted to reach out and calm his hand, but something in her told her it wasn't the right move. "I'm also looking at rental car companies, so if he gets a ride, I'll know."

"He'll probably buy a car with cash," Lucifer informed her softly, eyeing the contents of his cup before downing the rest. He was relieved to know Maze had so many safe-guards already, but he knew it wouldn't matter. If they wanted him, they were going to get him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her face fall slightly, so he reached out and wrapped a hand around her slender knee. "Thank you, Maze. I appreciate it." He gave her a small smile, as much as he could muster and squeezed her leg, earning a smile from the ever-stoic Maze.

"Of course, Lucifer," she replies gently, fighting the urge to cover his hand with her. A thought popped into her head, but she wasn't sure how to approach it. When he let go of her leg and leaned back into the couch, she figured he had calmed down enough to prod. "So, is this the brother that," he started, worrying her lips between her teeth as she motioned towards his back.

"No, that was Michael," he answered, furrowing his brow. He tinkered with the empty glass in his hand, as if he were rolling around his thoughts in it. "Gabriel is less impulsive, more calculated," he started, listing off the differences and the reasons for his unease. "He isn't rash, but he's even more dangerous. You see, he enjoys hurting people, holding that power over them," he recollects, his eyes staring off into the distance remembering the times he watched his brother beat a man to death with his bare hands, a vicious smile on his lips. "I might feel like a monster after everything I've done, but Gabriel really is one."

Maze listened and her eyes turned hard. She knew about his past, everything he would never tell another soul. All the horrible things he had done, had let happen, and had happened to him. She knew the guilt he carried for all of that. She could see the way it pained him to remember, but it seemed to scare him all the same. Whoever Gabriel was, he wasn't someone to underestimate, and he seemed to be the person to bring things to an end. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Lucifer decided he needed to rest up before work that evening. Maze watched him leave, no more relaxed than when he had arrived, and she hated that she could not give him more relief than what she was able to uncover. They would have to remain vigilant, and he would _have_ to leave Chloe alone, for her sake.

* * *

_1600: that afternoon_

Charlotte was able to make out the familial resemblance almost immediately. The height and coloring was similar, but this man was enormous. The kind of large that instantly instilled a since of fear in you. She had been expecting him, as per their regular emails until this meeting. She noticed the way the hand movements were similar to Lucifer's, the atmosphere that he exuded was both intriguing and intimidating. Gabriel was even a little taller than Lucifer, but not nearly as attractive. She wondered if Lucifer had been given all the looks between the brothers, but she didn't know anything about the others.

Gabriel had entered her office quietly, dressed in the same way Lucifer always dressed in slacks and button up-shirts. His exposed forearms revealed thick, striated muscle and tattoo-covered skin covered by a fine smattering of dark hair. He had blue eyes instead of brown and short, buzzed hair. He looked every bit professional as he did threatening. Charlotte wasn't afraid of him; she had seen men just as bad as him, and she knew that Gabriel wasn't one to fuck around unless he needed to. At that point, he needed Charlotte's information.

"Like I said over our correspondence," Charlotte reminded him after they had shared unnatural pleasantries upon their first meeting. "Lucifer hasn't been one to involve himself in much, but he does involve himself with her."

"This woman," Gabriel expressed, shifting in his seat and folding his hands together in his lap. "You think he cares about her?"

"Enough to make an arrangement with me to get more time with her," she admitted, raising her eyebrow while crossing her legs behind her desk. She studied the man's features as she watched him mull things around in his head.

"Oh, and what did you get out of that?" Gabriel asked, although he was lightly smirking, but the grin didn't reach his eyes. If anything, that information seemed like it was a waste of his time. All Charlotte did was shrug and give her own smirk, and he seemed more than satisfied with not knowing any details. "I take it he kept up his prolific sexual nature, then" It was more a rhetorical question, but Charlotte could see the annoyance on his face.

"The girls love him," she chided, raising her eyebrows and smiling to herself. "And the boys." With that, Gabriel gave off a disgusted expression before sighing heavily.

"My little brother had no idea how to keep pills or liquor out of his fucking mouth, and he _especially _doesn't know how to keep his cock in his pants. However, he was good at what he did, until he wasn't." Charlotte could sense that he was going to go off on a brief history of Lucifer's past with his family, but she wasn't expecting to be given such blunt information. "What happened to him was his fault; he became defiant, rebellious, trying to do his own thing as if he had the capacity to do such." His voice remained low and steady, but he was wringing his hands together in front of his face. "When he left, we weren't too worried about it; honestly, we couldn't care less. The problem was gone. However, our mother decided she needed to know. And my father thinks that he got off easy." His last sentence held an ominous tone, and Charlotte, for once, actually became concerned for what she was going to help do to Lucifer.

"No worries, Ms. Richards, I haven't forgotten about my end of the bargain." Gabriel finished, pointing his finger towards her and shaking it slightly. His grin was back, and it was alarming how quickly he could switch from menacing to accommodating.

"I don't want him killed, I just want him scared into giving me what I want." She reminded him, giving him a pointed stare. "I may hate the man, but he's still the father of my children, and they need him."

"Of course!" Gabriel assures her, shifting himself to stand at the chair, smoothing his clothes down over his large frame, much the same as Lucifer did. "He will just be _gently _convinced why shared custody is what's best for the children." Without more preamble, Gabriel started walking towards the door and immediately stopped himself when he remembered something. "_The Silver City_, right?" he asked her, hand on the handle of the office door. She nodded and he shot her a grateful smile. "Plays piano at a fucking bar," he chuckles to himself incredulously before pulling the door out wide to let himself leave the room. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

* * *

He did his job with just enough enthusiasm to keep the crowd entertained. He wasn't feeling flirting with the clientele, wasn't wanting to fulfil requests or do anything outside of an ordinary performance. He stayed rather collected, and while some of the more frequent patrons seemed less than impressed with him that evening, he couldn't give a fuck even if it smacked him in the face. If he were honest with himself, he was hurting, but Lucifer only lied to himself. He covered that hurt and the potential for actual, productive feelings with anger and resentment. Bitterness for a family that used his strengths and then chewed him up and spit him out the second he questioned anything. He hated them for what they did to him, but he hated them even more for being able to control him still. He hated himself for that, for giving in to that fear, even though his pride could easily be pushed aside for Chloe. He would do anything for her, and he felt it best to not dwell on that.

With his autopilot on, he played song after song, drank drink after drink, and managed to leave work with only the slightest of sways in his step. He left out of the back door to avoid walking through the bar and running into Maze. He didn't think he could handle her making sure he understood to leave Chloe alone. He knew she was right, he knew she was being more rational about it, but it didn't mean he liked it. In his usual way of avoiding anything rational and good for him, he found himself strolling down the back alley in his nice clothes, therapeutic buzz, and freshly lit cigarette resting between his lips. So, when he suddenly felt the cold, wet asphalt against his side and cheek, he was a little confused at how vivid this bout of vertigo felt, that was until the cracking pain flared on the back of his skull and warmth spread down his neck. The sound of metal clanking on the ground is what kept him from lulling into unconsciousness.

He had been in enough brawls to know that he had just been sucker-punched (sucker-hit? Sucker-smacked-in-the-back-of-the-head-by-God-himself?) and was now in a vulnerable position on the ground. Instinctively, he reached up to touch the pain on the back of his head, and when he did, a large had wrapped around his wrist and forced his arm up his back, effectively incapacitating him in a shoulder-lock. In that position, you're really not able to keep from crying out, and Lucifer was stunned by the strength behind the grip and the force he had on his shoulder. Honestly, he was more surprised the joint hadn't popped out yet. Trying to remain calm at the body behind him grabbed a handful of his hair and started to lift him, Lucifer reached behind himself with his free arm but was unable to touch anything. He felt the massive, solid heat behind him as his head was forced back while the grip on his wrist shoved his hand further up his back. Sharp, shooting pain ran through his arm and shoulder, but he still was unable to get a glimpse of his attacker.

"You're as arrogant as ever, little brother," the man sneered behind him, and Lucifer's blood ran cold. The pain in his head and arm whited out his vision, but he knew the instant the man opened his mouth who it was, and the absurd bulk behind him only quantified that. "Seriously, a few years out of practice and you've gone soft? Even I hadn't expected so poorly from you." Gabriel kneed Lucifer in the back, right against his left kidney, just for the sake of a reaction.

Normally, Lucifer would have hid his anxiety with a witty come-back, but he couldn't even fathom trying to speak that that moment. He could feel the warmth running down the back of his neck cooling in the night breeze and his head was pounding dangerously. The only thing he could really focus on was breathing, and even that was becoming difficult. He took a slow, shaky breath in through his mouth, swallowing down a wave a nausea, no doubt brought on by the certain concussion he was sporting, before speaking. "What is it with this family and crow bars?" he asked, his voice held an octave higher by the awkward position of his arm behind his back. His eyes roamed around what he could see, and he was able to make out the shape of the metal object that had been so graciously throttled into the back of his skull. "Oh, forgive me, tire iron. Very original, Gabe."

He would have smiled at himself for being just as much of a shit as he used to be, but the grip in his hair tightened while his arm was released. Before he could even consider lifting his arms, three quick blows rocked his temple, jumbling his already fuzzy brain even more. His front was against the ground again, water continuing to soak into his shirt as hands were zip-tied behind his back. Gabriel lifted him easily and threw him back against the wall where he managed to catch himself enough to slump down to the ground. The plastic from the zip-ties were biting into his flesh, cutting his wrists with every minute movement. For the first time in years Lucifer looked up to see his brother, standing over him in all of his height and girth. His temple was throbbing and that eye was stinging from the small trickle of blood dropping into it. The ring of Gabriel's finger that had done the damage was glistening gold in the moonlight, and Lucifer hoped there wasn't an indention on his face from the insignia on it. Golden Gates.

"Is this _really _necessary?" Lucifer argued, shrugging his shoulders to signal Gabriel's gaze to his connected wrists behind his back. "I mean, I'm already seeing four of you, I hardly doubt I could fight my way out of this." It was just as much an admission as it was a statement. He had been rocked. Hard. Gabriel wouldn't be an easy fight at his best, Lucifer certainly couldn't beat him now.

"For your own good, Lucifer," he informed him, crossing his monstrous arms over his even more monstrous chest. "I need you listening and not trying to fight, unsuccessfully," he added with a smirk. He had inflicted enough damage on his younger brother; he needed him coherent to fulfill his end of the bargain. "Turns out, you aren't as useless as you made yourself when you decided to hop the pond, little brother!"

"No, I'm pretty useless in most aspects, actually," Lucifer quipped, shaking his head slightly to try and relocate the pain anywhere other than his head.

"Probably the most self-awareness I've ever seen from you," Gabriel said incredulously. "But, no, you've gotten off too easy. Michael just barely scratched the surface, didn't he?" Gabriel asked, a knowing sparkle in his eyes and he lowered down to a squat in front of Lucifer. "Don't worry, I'm a better teacher."

Lucifer watched his brother stand back up and back away slightly, staring at him on the ground like a lion would stare at wounded prey. Taunting him, showing him he had been had. Game over, Lucifer. Freedom ain't free any more. "Can we get on with the lesson then, Teach? I really hate prolonging the inevitable."

Gabriel chuckled at that, laughing at how ironic that was. Lucifer basically handed him the segue on a silver fucking platter. "Pick up that expression here in America?" he asked, quirking his brows and running a hand down his face. "Tell me, is that what you call that sexy teacher of yours?" Lucifer's expression fell subconsciously as the blood coursing through his veins turned to shattered ice. He glared at Gabriel and clenched his jaw so he wouldn't say anything. "Oooh, did a strike a nerve, brother?" the larger man whispered, smirking as he turned his back on him for a brief moment.

Lucifer wasn't going to pretend he had no idea what Gabriel was talking about. He knew better than that, he knew that Gabriel had enough information regarding Chloe, or he wouldn't have brought it up. "She's nothing." Lucifer stated lowly, anger lacing in his words as he maintained his menacing glare towards his brother.

"Give me more credit than that," Gabriel scoffed, offended that Lucifer actually tried to reduce the significance for him. "I know who she is to you, and apparently, you're pretty smitten with this one." He's raising his eyebrows at him like he's daring for Lucifer to try to argue him on that. Lucifer averts his gaze and grimaces as he shifts his position slightly. "Now that you know that I know," Gabriel starts again, his finger going back and forth between them as he spoke. "There's something you have to do, call it extra credit, if you will, before my lesson." Lucifer just stares at him as if the man had grown two heads.

"What the hell are you going on about?" Lucifer asks him

"Trust me, I would love nothing more than to beat your miserable existence into the ground right now, brother, but this family repays its debts. I have a debt for the information I got on you, and _you_ are going to fulfil that debt for me." Gabriel sneers at him, his grip in his hair and around his jaw unrelenting as his knees continued to dig into the flesh of his thighs. "Once you're done, you're the only one I'm worried about. I'll forget everything I know about Chloe Decker."

It was easy to feign ignorance, even though they both knew better, before he said her name. Hearing her name out slip past his vile lips made his stomach churn in that uncomfortably cold way after someone punches you in the gut. "What do you want?" he asked quietly, holding Gabriel's stare to make sure he brother could see the violence crouching behind brown eyes.

"That's it?" Gabriel asked in disbelief, shaking his head and propping his hands on his hips. "I say her name and suddenly you're reduced to being an obedient dog?" He stares at his younger brother for a moment longer, taking in his defeated resolve as he remained still, hands bound behind him like a slave. He averts his gaze before huffing in contempt to himself and beginning to pace. "You need to go have a little chat with someone. Convince them it's in their best interests to do as you say. That's it. No need to get violent. Just intimidating. I've been told he's very soft."

"Why aren't you doing this, brother?" Lucifer asked, gritting his teeth as he tried to adjust his wrists into a better position, but only managed to cut the plastic further into his skin. "You're the one with a hard-on for terrorizing people."

"This is my holiday, Lucifer," Gabriel informs him casually, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't feel much like doing tedious work."

"Your holiday is being spent wrangling me and fulfilling some duty? Doesn't sound like much of a good time."

"That's where you're mistaken, brother. Tracking you down, finding out your little secrets, showing you just how fucked you are," he sighed happily, body shivering as if overcome with pleasure. "That's the best fucking holiday I could ever ask for." The silence between them lingered for a few minutes, and Gabriel didn't seem bothered by it at all, if anything, he was grateful for not having to listen to Lucifer speak.

"So, what's the intel? Who am I having a _discussion_ with?" Lucifer asked, emphasizing the word so Gabriel knew he understood. He did his best to keep his anxiety and anger at bay; upsetting Gabriel would do nothing for him or for Chloe. He had to take this dominance. He had to submit.

"1456 Centinela Avenue," Gabriel recited the address, crossing his arms over his chest. "All you need to know is that the source wants him to sign the new deal his lawyer sent over. He'll know what it's about." Lucifer glared at him and nodded his head. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall, his wrists still being sliced into by the zip-tie. Gabriel huffed out an exacerbated sigh before bending down and pulling Lucifer away from the wall. He grabbed the knife out of his pocket and cut the zip-tie precariously close to Lucifer's skin. He shoved the younger man back against the wall, but stayed crouched in front of him.

"You don't have to stop seeing her. I mean, shit, I wouldn't want to stop fucking that piece of ass, either. As long as you do as I say, I won't touch her or the kid." Lucifer was rubbing his wrists when the mention of Chloe's child made his blood run even colder. He made a move towards his brother, but all Gabriel had to do was hold up his hand, reminding Lucifer that he had all the leverage. Lucifer's metaphorical short leash was yanked, and he fell back against the wall in defeat. "Come on, little brother. It'll be like the good ol' days. Are you afraid you're going to like it, again?" Gabriel smirks at Lucifer before patting him lightly on the cheek. The younger brother pulls away from the touch, a disgusted expression on his face, making the older man chuckle. "Five days, or I'm paying Chloe a little visit," he warns him before straightening up and walking away, disappearing into the darkness once out of the glow from the street lights.

Lucifer remained against the wall, almost in disbelief, but the deafening ringing in his head and pounding thrumming against his skull provided the evidence that the event was real. There was a moment of panic, the idea that he had been found, caught, and had been so careless as to let anyone get close to him. He had become soft; he had allowed himself the prospect of freedom, and it had come back to bite him in the ass. He could feel the grip of his father's hands wrapping around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs as laughing at his struggle.

He wasn't aware of how long he had stayed there, on the wet ground trying to keep his fear and anger at bay. It couldn't have been longer than a couple of hours, for when the first gradient of lighter blue started fading through the black, he knew he needed to get up, before anyone saw him. The walk to his car was on the wrong side of uncomfortable, but the damage done wasn't severe. He definitely had a concussion, he had definitely bled down his back, his wrists were stinging, and his temple was throbbing from the blows Gabriel landed on him. He hadn't had a beating like this in a long time, and his body was out of practice from pain like this. However, that was like riding a bike, by the time he was in his car, he was able to walk completely upright.

Once safe in the privacy of his car, he let his head fall to the steering wheel. He wanted nothing more than to go see Chloe. To hold her in his arms and just feel that she was okay. He knew Gabriel wouldn't do anything to her, yet, not until Lucifer pissed him off. That's how his family worked. You were safe, until someone didn't hold up their end. If that happened, nothing would stop what was coming. That was what he hated most. He _knew_ how it all worked, he remembered every detail of how their organization ran, even after five years. All that shit was engrained into him, like he was some sleeper cell that just needed to be reminded of _who_ he was, _what _he was.

But it was fine. He tried to keep telling himself that while he put his keys into the ignition. It was fine. He would do what Gabriel told him to do, take the fucking beating of his life, and if he managed to survive and not become a goddamn vegetable, he would figure out a way to barter for his release. That made him laugh. Like he was some sort of prisoner. However, that's how his family worked. That's how his father worked. Barter for what you want. Make deals for what you want. What he wanted was Chloe. He didn't think that was too much to ask. He'd allow himself to spend time with her, be present with her, but be vigilant. She was an innocent in this, her and her daughter. He felt sick again, and he forced himself to stop thinking about that. He had five days. Five days to do what was asked, five days until he could figure out his life.

As he drove home, he let himself pretend everything would be okay. He'd get to his apartment. Down the pills he could find, drink an entire bottle of whatever the fuck he could find, shower the blood and shame off of himself, and then call Maze. He was debating talking to Chloe. He was debating just driving to her house, waking her up, and kissing her like it was the last time he was going to. He couldn't let her see him like this. He needed to numb the fear out of his eyes before he saw her again. Sure, he could explain his appearance, but he couldn't lie about why he looked absolutely terrified. So numbing that, drowning that down with his coping mechanism of choice needed to come first. Then he could talk to her and not want to crumble. Then he could look into her eyes and make her feel like she deserved to feel. Then he could ignore the stabbing feeling he got in his chest because he knew he didn't deserve to even breathe the same air she did.

Maze was already in his apartment when he stumbled through his door. Initially, her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked ready to beat his face in, when she realized she was late to that party her mouth parted slightly. Before she could even ask, he nodded his head, grimacing at his fucked up reality, and went straight for the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. She said nothing as she shuffled about, yanking the nightstand drawer out completely, contents flying everywhere, and grabbing the small baggie of pills. He popped four into his mouth and chugged a few gulps of liquor before sitting down on his couch. In that time, Maze had found a cloth and dampened it with warm water and sat next to him on the couch. She urged him to lean forward as she dabbed at the back of his head, cleaning the wound left by the tire iron. She waited for him to start talking, and after he had downed a fourth of the bottle, he started describing his little family reunion to her, and she just listened carefully while tending to broken skin on his head and face. By the time she had made it to his wrists, he had finished and was leaning back, eyes closed, just soaking in the comfort he could get. Maze just did what she did best, took in all his pain and frustration, cleaned away his blood, and let him feel everything he was going to feel without judgment.

* * *

**A/N: okay... so some exciting news... I do have an ending planned for this story, and thanks to my good fried Nadia (More-More, you'll see her in the comments) you all will have a happy ending! I know, Luni, I know... how happy are you, since I wasn't sure it was going to happen. However, just a warning. It's going to get a HELL of a lot worse before it gets better. Just have a little faith in me... more smut to come... I promise! Stay on the dark side, we have the best time ;)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Okay everyone… It's time for the story to reveal its namesake. So, at a certain point, I recommend pulling up Nine Inch Nail's _Closer_ (or, hell, even Asking Alexandria's cover is good, if you're more into a harder version). I won't say when, as to not give _too_ much away, but I think you'll all know when to do it. Enjoy you dark, dark creatures.

* * *

She didn't hear from him that night, and the grown-ass woman part of her told her to not worry, the more-needy-girl part of her was wondering what was going on. However, she kept reminding herself that they weren't a _thing_. They were fooling around, and hadn't even slept with each other (although his tongue had literally fucked her stupid on multiple occasions). Even with all of that pragmatism behind her, the physical and emotional reaction she had to him threw that logic out the goddamn you-make-sense window. It wasn't just a You get off, I get off, we all get off together thing. It was something deeper than either one of them was willing to admit. However… Lucifer seemed to be much more comfortable with that idea than she was. So why was she afforded the right to be concerned with him not talking? There we go, gotta love that pragmatic brain of hers.

Thursday morning came and went, and she had kissed her daughter goodbye because she was going straight to Dan's after school let out. There was a lot to be desired about LA's public school transportation, but the fact that Trixie was able to have two school buses to take her to either house was a convenience Chloe cherished immensely. That meant she wouldn't have to leave the house. That meant she was allowed to drink as many glasses of wine she wanted, starting that afternoon, because why the fuck not? Also… why worry about dirtying glasses when you can just drink out of the bottle?

The thing with drinking out of the bottle, however, is that you aren't quite area of _how much_ you're drinking. She's draining the bottle before she realizes that she's feeling pretty damn good. Being child-free that evening, she's donning a pair of comfortable booty shorts and a shirt that she isn't convinced might be Trixie's. The kicker: sans bra. It's wonderful to be slightly buzzed and to have soft fabric rubbing against your neglected nipples. It's just barely 20:00 when she enters the kitchen to open a new bottle of wine and look to see what is edible in the fridge. Nothing for a singular meal, but plenty of one-to-two bites of a lot of different options. Variety. A woman of the world, she was.

Grabbing the two egg rolls, literally three bites of a burger, rice with some sort of mystery sauce, and an unknown food item that didn't smell like it had gone bad. She stared at the pathetic excuse for a meal on her counter and realized that the only reason she ever ate any better was if Trixie was around. The spread before her was not fit for a child to eat, but she was an adult, and she could mix the unholy spread with wine if she wanted to. With the open bottle of wine in one hand, she was about to reach and grab a questionably safe food item when the doorbell rang. She was grateful to not have dropped the bottle, but was not grateful that she was about to answer the door looking the absolute mess she thought she looked. Fuck it, right? Come to a single woman's house at night, expect to find a goddamn mess.

She stalked to the door, wine in hand, ready to give the person behind the door her best resting bitch-face for making her current state a fucking carnival attraction for them. Opening the door and her mouth, to give them a piece of her mind, she was met with the person behind the door, wearing their version of _bummin' it_. There was Lucifer, in all his tall, dark, too-handsome glory, wearing dark jeans that fit him sinfully well and a black t-shirt. She has absolutely never been more of a fan of a black t-shirt than she was in that moment. She stood there, mouth a gaping hole of _what the fuck_, and he just looked down at her before eyeing the bottle and stealing it as he walked inside her house.

Deciding that a closed mouth was a better look for her, she locked her door and turned around to watch him just strut into her kitchen like fucking owned the place (and he could own her with the way his ass looked in those jeans), casually sipping from the bottle. "Um, hello?" she greeted, more of a question than a _happy to see you_.

"Good evening, Professor," he said calmly, his voice like velvet in her ears, giving her that all-over chill that only seemed to make her instantly wet. He never turned around, and for some unknown reason, was a huge turn-on. She watched as he slowly swirled the bottle around in his hand before setting it down on the counter and picking up a container. She was instantly mortified and watched in horror as he proceeded to place _something_ into his mouth. "What the fuck is this?" he asked around his mouthful of food, still chewing with a contemplative expression.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, found herself without a fucking clue as to what he put in his perfect mouth, and walked over to him. She peered into the container, poked the "food" and then promptly looked up at him. "I'm not sure." Lucifer stopped chewing, swallowed, only slightly alarmed, and then shrugged. He tossed the container back onto the counter before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Seriously professor, for the sake of you and your spawn, I need to teach you how to actually cook something." Chloe chuckled at that, shoving him playfully before grabbing her bottle of wine from the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him while he took the bottle back, looking just as normal and stunning as he always did.

"So what's going on?" she asked, her tone still light and playful. He raised his eyebrows at her as if he had no idea what she could be talking about. "I mean, last time I saw you, you were acting all distant and said you were going to be really busy." She waited for a response, but when she realized she wasn't going to get one, she continued. "Now you're here just acting like your regular, albeit cheerful, self."

If he felt pressured by the question, he didn't act like it. He simply rolled his tongue around in his mouth, looking her over slowly, eyes dragging from her face down the rest of her body. "Things change, Professor," he admitted softly, tilting his head in a way that was both charming and the right kind of intimidating.

"Yeah, like your face," she added, motioning towards the side of his face that was bruised, surprisingly not as bad as he thought it would be. At least she couldn't see the laceration on the back of his head. The joys of thick, dark hair. There wasn't judgment in her tone, and he appreciated that. She probably just assumed it had something to do with work, or someone made that their partner drooled when he walked by.

"Ah, yes," he quipped, as if he had completely forgotten about his aching temple. "Just a spat after work last night," he finished, hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions. It wasn't a lie, he was in a "spat" after work, he just omitted that it was his thug brother threatening him and her, and the offspring. She didn't need to worry about that. "And before you ask, it was a tie, and I'm a tad disgruntled about it." He pouted his lips to make his point, and she seemed satisfied enough with his answer.

Chloe planted a sly grin on her face, taking him for his word, but assuming he wasn't telling her everything. He didn't have to. "I feel like I'm enabling some poor academic behavior but not telling you to go study."

"Nonsense," he chided, stepping closer towards, keeping his arms by his sides even while standing so close her head was tilted all the way back to see him. "I don't need any help enacting poor behavior." His words were deep and heated, and she felt as if her breath was sucked out of her lungs by the change in the atmosphere. They were alone. Completely alone. In her home, no fear of being seen or heard.

Licking her lips and not even thinking about the way his eyes trailed down to her mouth as she did so, she simply took a step back and tilted her head. "So, what's up with the threads? This your version of wearing sweats?"

He raised an eyebrow before crossing his arms over his chest. The t-shirt only accentuated how fucking hot he was by stretching to its limits over his arms and shoulders. Thankfully she couldn't see his chest behind his arms, or she probably would have taken everything off right there. "I'm feeling a bit bold, a bit casual," he answered, doing that thing with his face where he sticks his tongue into his cheek and literally looks like sex personified. "That a problem?"

"Not at all," she answered, making sure he could see that she was admiring him in different attire. "Dare I ask why you're feeling so audacious?"

He laughed at her vocabulary, although it didn't quite reach his eyes, like he was only half-in on the humor of it. "Might be the little squabble I was in. Adrenaline always gets me a little frisky." He honest-to-God winked at her while managing to make the term "frisky" sound normal and sort of sexy. She wanted to ignore the sparkle in his eyes; the one that seemed to be masking something. In the short time she had known him, she knew he hid behind his charming personality; a genuine mask to distract from the pain he felt.

"Frisky, you say?" she asked, her tone playful, leaning forward enough to grab the dangling wine from his fingers. Her knuckles grazed the underside of his chest and she could feel the heat of his skin through his illegally fitted shirt. "This is my second bottle," she started, taking a nice, long pull from it and loving the way his eyes darted to her throat. "You need to catch up."

"Already with you," he informed her, stepping right up to her and moving to lean down for a kiss, but she quickly dodged it. He could already she the annoyance in her face, and he fought every urge in him to not smirk at her. She was adorably square when it came to the rules; well, most of them.

"You mean you pre-gamed, then drove yourself here?" she asked, her expression hard, but not too hard. Clearly, he was coherent enough to walk around like a fucking deity, but it was the principle of the matter. "You have to stop doing that! It's bad!" It was hard to scold a man with a grin like that, and it was hard to scold a man with a fucking cock like that. Before she could register his movements, he reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her flush against him. He only lowered his gaze enough to see her. She loved it, he could tell, her pupils dilated gorgeously to be held like that.

"Yes, I know, bad Lucifer," he chided, tilting his chin up to give her access to his neck. She was never one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, so she let her lips drag along his skin, never giving him enough friction to _really _feel it. It didn't stop him from shivering, though.

"Such a bad, bad, boy," she cooed against the edge of his jaw before lightly licking the stubble there. The groan she received for that shot straight to her center, and _fuck_ if that didn't drive her crazy. She could play. She could _so_ play this. Staring up at him through her lashes, she quickly turned around and walked away, gulping down the dark liquid and enjoying the warmth pooling in her stomach. She felt heat behind her, definitely not from the wine, and she knew he was following her, wherever she went, he'd go.

"I can make it up to you," he breathed out, deep and gravelly above the back of her head. "I can be good for you."

She wasn't sure why hearing those words out of his ridiculously pretty mouth made her entire body shudder as if she stepped outside in a snow storm, her nipples doing a great impression of becoming diamonds under her shirt. She had no idea what the hell was happening, and how they got to this weird sort of play, but she was into it. He was into it. If any indication to the state of her panties, as well as the hard length down his jeans, was needed to say that they were into it.

"You can be good, can't you?" she stated, less a question and more a fact for him to agree to. She turned around slowly, keeping their closeness the same. From her spot, she had to strain to look up at him, but he wasn't putting off any intimidating or dominant energy. Instead, she felt that she had the energy, she had the power, and he stood in front of her, size and all, waiting to be commanded.

"Mhmm," he replied softly, his eyes turning almost black, lips parting, and he looked even younger with the pure need she could see plainly on his features.

"Just need someone to show you how," she whispered, placing one of her hands on his hip, the other traveling up to play with the shorter hairs on the back of his neck. He groaned loudly, leaning into the touch like his life depended on it. "Right?"

"_Yes,_" he answered, almost inaudibly, and she would have missed it if she hadn't watched his lips barely move to form the affirmation. Her entire body thrummed with a warm energy, whether it be from the wine or from the pliant _god_ in front of her, or probably a mixture of both, and she never wanted it to end. She had never felt as confident in what she was about to do. Never felt as sure and as comfortable with herself to let something like this happen, and she was going to run with it.

She tugged on his hair, thoroughly enjoying the way his mouth twitched open before his jaw tensed as he grit his teeth. She pulled him down by her grip and he moved easily to where she wanted him to mouth along the side of his head, lips grazing his ear. The fingers on his hip moved to trail under the hem of his shirt, just barely touching skin and making him shudder almost violently. "Show me," she ordered softly into his ear, earning a small whimper. "Show me how you can be good for me."

So there she was, in her itty bitty spinster clothes, bringing a man to his knees by his hair that had no business looking as good as he did. He fell willingly, looking up at her through thick, dark lashes, face hovering over her breastbone from his kneeling position. The reverence in his eyes was enough to make her want to run her fingers through his hair, kiss and lick her way across his face, whisper sweet, terrible things into his ear, and take him apart piece by piece. She pushed his face against her skin lightly, and he indulged in kissing her through her clothes, large hands moving up to graze the backs of her legs with feather-light touch. She shivered when his fingertips traced the hem of her shorts before slipping behind the fabric to cub her ass in his palms, the heat of his breath sinking through her shirt as he nipped lower and lower.

Frustrated with the need for more, Chloe hurriedly pulled her shirt off and tossed it away without a care, leaving her upper body completely bare. He licked his lips as he admired her naked skin, tongue running along his teeth as he decided where to taste first. Lucifer's lips settled against the soft skin above her navel, pressing wet kisses along her body. His mouth traveled north and attached to one nipple before the other, laving at the sensitive buds in a quick back-and-forth motion, as if he couldn't get enough of either. She could feel his hot breath rolling across her skin as his mouth moved in a frenzy, and the warmth followed by cooling air was intoxicating. She became a glutton in that moment, needing even more from him, and grabbed his arms, trying to haul him back up to standing. He seemed reluctant to follow her lead, but he lifted himself with a finally pop, releasing a nipple from between swollen lips. She captured his mouth with hers the second she could reach him as she started to walk them back towards her couch.

Lucifer followed, helping her wiggle out of her shorts and underwear on their less-than-graceful trek to the living room. Once there, she quickly spun him around to force him down on the cushions, large frame completely covering the length of the couch. She was very aware of her completely bare form in comparison to his fully clothed one, but the look of pure hunger on his face gave her the confidence to crawl up his body, straddling his chest. He lifted his head to get a taste, but she roughly shoved his head back down by a firm grip into the hair above his forehead. He hissed, eyes squeezing shut, but his lips parted in a slight smile that made her tremble. When he finally opened his eyes, they were heated in a mix between carnal need and submission; he was hers to take, hers to use.

Her own blue eyes darkening, she lowered herself down, just out of his reach, keeping her stare on his eyes. She could feel his breath against her delicate skin and could see the struggle for restraint in his features. It was everything she could have wanted. Almost as if he couldn't stand the pressure anymore, she felt his arm shift beneath her, and looking over her shoulder proved her instinct right. His hand was pressing against the very obvious bulge in his pants, likely trying to relieve the painful tension of his erection, just a little. With the hand not in his hair, she reached behind her, gripping his wrist hard to still his movements, _tsking_ in disproval. Chloe turned her head back to look down at him, his pained, almost dire, expression clear, and another wave of arousal slicked between her thighs.

"The faster you make me cum, the faster you get to take your dick out." She licked her lips and tugged at his hair as he began eating her out with the enthusiasm of a starved man being handed a hot meal. She felt his hand travel from her thigh to hover fingers over her entrance, but she tugged his hair in protest. "No cheating, just your mouth." He whimpered into her flesh, but he listened, moving both hands hold her hips to keep his tongue and lips the sole players. It was downright sinful the way he could work his mouth against her, and she shamelessly rode his face with wanton abandon. She could feel his hums of approval and arousal every time she ground herself down on his tongue, wondering if he was a free-diver in his spare time. The man never seemed to come up for air, so to speak.

A particularly slow, rough drag of his tongue against her clit produced those tell-tale signs of imminent release, forcing her to lean forward and brace herself on the armrest of the couch. A litany of _oh gods _and _yes, yes yes_ echoed through the air, nothing but breathy chants and strangled moans. Lucifer's own muted groans and whimpers were the icing on the metaphorical cake of cumming on his face. It was a shame she couldn't see said face, but having it between her thighs was a close second. Decidedly riding his face as if it were a mechanical bull, she looked over her shoulder to objectify what she _could _see of him. She could see the muscles along his stomach tensing and relaxing as his hips rolled into the air, minutely, but enough to be obviously searching for friction. He looked _fucking amazing_, fucking wonderful covered in tight black cotton and denim, the thick pipe of his cock straining against the seam of his pants. Keeping herself up with one hand on the armrest, she reached back and palmed at his erection, earning her a lewd cry up inside her.

His mouth stopped moving, undoubtedly open and lax from the relieving friction of her hand, so she roughly grabbed at the bulge and squeezed with enough pressure to get his attention. "Don't fucking stop," she grit through her teeth, enjoying the way he panted and groaned against her wet inner thighs, a mixture of her essence and his saliva, before diving back in. She envisioned the way his face must look, stubble-covered chin and jaw, glistening with their combined fluids, pupils blown, black swallowing rich brown, shapely lips puffy from use. No amount of porn could ever come close to that image in her head. Squeezing his hard cock through his jeans, white-knuckling the armrest, and stilling her hips over him, she imploded in a fantastical supernova; her internal walls collapsing and expanding in a dangerous rhythm.

It rocked her, the sheer force of it, and she was afraid she was going to smother him if he hadn't pressed his hands up against the backs of her thighs, lifting her ever-so-slightly. When her brain was no longer short-circuiting, she found that her desire hadn't dampened at all; her need hadn't been sated, even in the slightest. What she needed was to be filled, to have a heavy, solid cock inside her. _God_, did she want to sink down on every glorious, thick inch of him and feel of the burn of the stretch for days. When the faculties of movement were available to her, she quickly, forcefully, shifted down, pressing her back into the back of the couch, sliding one leg between Lucifer and the cushions with the other draping over his legs.

When they were face to face, they were both panting, her cheeks flushed and hot. She quickly attacked his mouth, not even sparing a second to make eye contact. The heady flavor of herself on his tongue made her moan deeply into his mouth as her hands roamed all over his clothed body. She trailed the hand not over his cock under his shirt, digging her blunted nails into skin, taught over ridges of muscle. She never wanted something more than she wanted him. It burned, it ached how badly she wanted, and she was going to allow herself to take whatever he put out.

"Take it off," she demanded against his chin, not moving to make the job of shedding his shirt any easier for him. With the speed of light, he reached behind his head and muscled his way out of the material, and she wasted no time putting her lips against his collarbone. She sunk her teeth into the skin below the slightly protruding bone as she raised the hand at his crotch the button of his jeans. His breath hitched in the most erotic way and he lifted his face up to allow her lips to travel up his neck. She could feel the muscles in his lower abdomen tremble as she traced just below the waist of his pants. Sucking at his neck, her fingertips danced around under the band of his underwear, and he continued to writhe under her ministrations, hips undulating in a tantalizing figure-8. That was what broke her.

Without being gentle, she made quick work of his illegally tight jeans, opening up the fly and grabbing a fistful of cock through straining boxer briefs. He slammed his head back against the armrest, a loud thud made it sound like it hurt, but he didn't seem to give a flying fuck. His mouth opened even wider in a silent scream before closing to let his teeth sink into plumb bottom lip. She shifted herself up to be eye-level with him, and at the same time, she shoved his underwear down, tucking the band under his balls to have his hard length fully exposed for her. Her free arm ran under his shoulders and she was able to grab the hair on the back of his head, turning his face towards her. They were so close, noses bumping together, lips brushing accidentally, breath hot and wet between them.

"_Oh, fuck,"_ he breathed, forcing his eyes back from viewing the back of his skull to hold her focused stare. He was panting and it was beautiful, hips still moving, trying to fuck his cock in her fist with hungry desperation.

"Yeah, does that feel good?" she asked, her voice higher in pitch, but still soft. He whimpered, a deep, ragged sound, nodding his head frantically as if afraid she might stop. She couldn't help the pleased smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth and she started stroking him harder, quicker. "You made me cum so fast," she breathed, slightly moaning in the memory of how great his tongue felt inside her, on her clit. "So good for me. I can't wait to ride your cock." She watched his jaw muscles tense with a lewd growl, his entire body rolling beneath her as his lips captured hers in a searing kiss. His mouth opened for her tongue and she plundered the taste of Lucifer and herself in the hot, wet vacuum behind his teeth. He sucked her tongue lightly and she squeezed his cock in return, a pleased noise escaping her throat when he gasped. One of his hands shot down, wrapping around her hand on his cock and making her squeeze even harder. He thrust up into their hands, trying to set the pace and pressure, but that wasn't what she wanted.

Nipping his bottom lip, almost drawing blood, she pushed his hand away, completely abandoning the throbbing member to pin his wrist above his head. He looked shocked for a moment, but her sensual hums of disproval made him melt back down into a pliant puddle beneath her. "All those times you told me I need to take what I want," she teased, squeezing his wrist in a warning to stay put before dragging her hand over the curve of his arm to his chest. "Are you going to let me? Are you going to be good and let me take what I want, Lucifer?"

"Oh, _fuck," _he groaned, as much an answer as she needed, licking along the hinge of his jaw, rough stubble scratching her tongue. He continued to squirm beneath her like an ocean and she was the ship braving the waters. Shamelessly she eyed his entire form, biting her lip while she explored every inch on display, imagining what she couldn't see.

"Do you have any idea what you look like?" she asked rhetorically, voice raspy from arousal and smooth like honey. His eyes fluttered slightly, his mouth turning in the faintest of smirks, but he did not answer her. "Yes, you do, don't you?" She trailed her hand down his torso, tortuously slow, her fingertips rising and sinking along every swell and dip of his abs until she was tracing the prominent iliac furrow above his hip. "You know exactly how irresistible you look every day, and then you show up here, dressed like that," she continued, a monologue of her confessions, admitting what he did to her. "Like you knew I wouldn't be able to resist." Chloe nipped at the underside of his jaw before swiftly moving to straddle him. His hand clenched above his head, but he kept his arm up and let her place his over arm above him, as well. She held his wrists, keeping her body over his, squeezing her knees around his ribs enough to make him wince slightly.

She searched his dark eyes, taking in every ounce of desperation they bore into her and drinking it down to her soul. Lowering his center over his aching cock, she rubbed her wet flesh along the rigid length, drawing a whimper out of him. Pressing herself down more firmly, riding the line a little too close to pain, she leaned her body over his, her skin melting along his in a languid flow from her lower stomach up to her chest. Her breasts pressed below his chest, flattening down and creating alluring cleavage, she licked a path up to the hollow of this throat. His breath shuddered, hips rolling up frantically, arms straining behind his head, but he stayed put.

"Want to know a secret, Lucifer?" she asked in a whisper, one hand in his hair, the other trailing up his side, over his neck, and towards his mouth to let her fingertips trace his parted lips. He nodded, just barely, looking wrecked already, and she planted a wet kiss to his sternum before continuing. "From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you," she breathed against the prickled surface of his goosebump-covered chest. "Deep down I _knew_ I wanted to fuck myself stupid on your cock." She let the _k_ sound pop with her mouth open, looking at his utterly wrecked expression with carnal fascination. His cock twitched against his stomach and he let out a low, strangled groan, wiggling to no avail. "Oh, you like the sound of that?" she taunts, knowing exactly how she's teasing him.

"_Please, please, please,_" he chanted, her fingers staying on his lips as they moved. The flash of wet, pink muscle was just too inviting for her to pass up on, so she sank two fingers into his mouth, past his teeth. He groaned, nodding in desperate approval as he gently bit down on her digits, tongue meeting the pads of her fingertips and softly sucking. She gasped, dripping between her thighs from the wanton display. He was pure sin, all dark hair, dark features, and the unfair way his thick lashes rimmed his eyes to give the appearance of a natural-looking liner. Pouty lips stretched ever-so-slightly by her fingers, and the hot, wet feel of his tongue stroking along the length of them.

"Please, what, Lucifer?" she asked as coyly and as mean as she could. She could tell it was torture for him, every painful second her heat was pressed against him, denying him entrance into the one place they need him to be.

"Take what you want," he groaned, muffled by fingers, but still clear as day. His arms flexed against the armrest of the couch, his back arching her up slightly, making it very apparent what she was being asked, pleaded, to take.

"Just like that, Lucifer?" she questioned, her voice just barely admonishing. She could see the frustration clear on his face, that tick of annoyance when something so wanted was just out of your grip. "You'll be that easy?" Her voice ended in a higher lilt as she shifted her hips again, pulling her fingers out of his mouth slowly, dragging the glistening digits down his lip and over his chin. His bottom lip snapped back up, almost bouncing, and she tilted her chin up, looking down at him, waiting for the right words…

"Just for you," he whispered, his pupils blown but the sincerity was palpable. There was a moment of pause between them as they stared into each other's eyes, allowing a second of recognition and understanding to mingle in their shared air. "You can take anything you want from me." His gaze was heated, his lips parted, breath coming in shallow pants. She could almost feel the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat through the rigid length pressed against her. His admittance and complete submission broke through the dominating façade she was presenting and let her desire rage through her like a blazing wildfire.

Frantically she reached down between her legs, grabbing hold of his cock and rubbing the head through her folds to coat it in her ample arousal. She stared at him while he stared directly at what she was doing, eyes wide and bottom lip between his teeth. When she paused with the tip pressing against her entrance, his eyes lifted and he wet his lips. It was a signal of 'ready' if she ever saw one. She sank down relatively quickly, not minding the sting of the stretch, white-hot but _so fucking good_. They moaned in unison; a long, drawn-out, breathy sound made in harmony.

As soon as she was fully seated onto every _glorious_ inch, stretched to a searing limit, she bent down and kissed him roughly. Tongues pressed against the other's length, wet and slippery, tasting the other as if to remember the unique flavor. He made a soft sound into her mouth, almost a whimper, when she started to move her hips in small rotations, keeping him deep inside her. She could feel that dull ache deep within, the pressing against her cervical wall, unpleasant if done improperly. She reveled in it with him, allowing that throb of sensation to keep her grounded and present; to remind her that this was allowed, this was dignified. This was consensual.

There was a part of her that wondered if she should take a moment. Allow herself to appreciate the magnitude of the moment. It was huge. This was something she wasn't sure if she was ever going to have again. Something that ate away at her soul, made her feel guilty for wanting, made her feel weak and vulnerable where she used to feel strong and powerful. Lucifer brought that back. He had a presence that was both dominating and inviting. He wasn't intimidating to her, he simply stood proud and confident, and she respected it more than she would ever admit to him. Now, the confident and collected man lay beneath her; pliant and willing, open and accepting, and the appreciation she felt for him could easily bring tears to her eyes. She swallowed it down. She would not cry with his dick inside her. She would, however, bring them both down in a blaze of heat and lust.

Undulating her hips, she rose up and sank back down, finding a pace that suited her. She brought both hands to the bend of his elbows, gripping the muscle and sinking her blunted nails into skin. She knew it had to bite, just a little, but he didn't seem to care. If anything, he wasn't aware of much else going on besides the feel of her wet heat wrapped around him and his hips pushing into the cushions of the couch with every down-ward motion. It was a hard decision, whether she wanted to taste the desire in his mouth or if she wanted to watch him slowly fall apart. She could feel the muscles along his hips flexing under her from the strain of remaining still, and he was being so good, doing what she wanted him to do. What she really needed him to do. This was for her. She needed the control, she needed the ability to manage the situation, and he had no problem laying his body down for her to plunder. There would be plenty of time, he hoped, for him to be able to worship her in all the ways she deserved.

She sped up her pace, the beginnings of that addicting tingle forming at the apex of her thighs and burning into her lower stomach, spreading like the light from a single candle. She could feel the sheen of sweat along her skin brought on by the heat of arousal, the cool air keeping her nipples hard and sensitive. Every movement made her breasts bounce, a tantalizing display in front of him, and she watched his hooded eyes dart between each breast while he wet his lips. He made eye contact with her quickly, and with a small nod, he lifted his neck up the short distance and licked a line from her ribs to the underside of a firm mound, licking up until he could suck a nipple into his mouth.

She always loved that. Sure, it felt good to have her nipples sucked, but it _really _felt good to have them sucked and licked while she was being stimulated below the belt. It was like an instant charge to her nether regions, and she could feel the tingling of another orgasm approaching. With one hand propping herself up on the armrest above his head, she used the other to dig into his thick, dark hair and press his face harder into her chest, effectively suffocating him in boobs. He seemed perfectly fine with the potential for death by breast, though, as he continued to eagerly suck and nipple on her pebbled flesh.

"Just keep doing that, Lucifer," she breathed, her hips rolling roughly over his pelvis, every downward drag giving her swollen clit the perfect amount of friction. "I'm going to cum again, and then you get to." She smirked and bit he lip, looking down at him as he growled in want and frustration, the vibrations rippling through the skin still in his mouth. "Bite a little," she ordered, her voice not nearly as stable as she had hoped. He obliged her wishes, gently biting the nub between his teeth and rolling the hardened skin delicately. She cried out, fingers tightening in his tresses as her second orgasm ripped through her entire body. She was quieter this time, only because every muscle in her body clamped down and tightened, forcing the air out of her lungs and any utterance of a sound to be strangled.

Chloe had enough wits about her to feel his hips moving beneath her, trying to help her ride out her bliss while her legs weren't functioning enough to move her own body. Breathing deeply and bending down, she captured his lips with her own, tongue lightly caressing the seam of his lips before pulling back. She lifted her arms to rub her hands along the exposed and straining expanse of his arms, pulling his elbows towards her in invitation to finally touch. He frantically brought his hands to her hips, squeezing the mix of bone, muscle, and tendons and pulling her further down on his length.

"You look fucking incredible like this," he groaned, shifting his feet on the couch, bending his knees to give himself leverage to fuck up into her from the bottom. "All flushed and glowing after taking what you wanted." The haze of her post-orgasmic bliss made her feel heavy, but his unforgiving grip on her hips lifted her just enough to allow him full range to thrust his length all the way in and out. It was an awkward position for him, his tight jeans still snug around his upper thighs, restrictive if not for his superior willpower in blowing through obstacles in the art of Fuck. He was already dangerously close and he didn't care. He was chasing his release like a hound chasing a hare; efficiently, with the speed of a Formula 1 car.

Chloe took the ride, allowing her body to jostle with every thrust, her hands weakly clinging to his chest as he was given the grace to seek what he needed from her. The noises he made continued to be the most erotically beautiful sound-poetry she had ever heard, and she tried to store all of them in her memory for future lonely nights. His string of curses and grisly moans signaled his imminent release, and she was pleased that he came inside her, filling her up in a way no man had in many years. She moaned as she felt his cock turn rigid, pulsing against her inner walls and pumping her full of his release. She loved having it fill her, slide out along her inner thighs; it made her feel sexy, dirty, complete. His labored breathing continued as he pulled her torso down, laying her face on his chest and stroking along her hair with one hand, hot breath puffing and tickling her scalp. She wished she had been paying attention to the rest of his face, but the way his mouth twitched and opened during orgasm was too good a show to devote attention elsewhere.

They lay there, panting and hot, somehow both sticky and slick with a combination of bodily fluids that could hold close-second to that of a hotel room bedspread. The high of the evening wearing off, breath filling lungs easier, and minds slowly coming back to a stark reality out of the fog that great sex could put you in.

"Holy shit," Chloe whispered against his neck, more to herself and the air in the room than to anyone else.

One of Lucifer's hands rubbed lightly up and down her back of its own volition while the other dangled off the side of the couch, fingers brushing the floor. "What the fuck just happened?" he asked more to himself than anything else. She could almost hear the disbelief in his tone, the incredulousness of someone not able to comprehend they just got what they wanted.

"I think we just had sex," she replied, almost as disbelieving as he and without any fucking tact whatsoever. They were back to themselves, mostly, anyways. Neither had moved, or even tried to, and they continued to bask in the post-orgasmic afterglow while their brains tried to comprehend what the actual fuck _had_ just happened. That wine, and whatever he had pre-gamed with…. She would have to look into getting a lifetime supply of that shit.

"_Oh, thank fuck,_" he breathed, sighing in relief and bringing his free arm up over his face. "For a moment I was worried that I had just experienced a fucking wet fever-dream," he sighed again, the hand on her back squeezing her ass just slightly, as if making sure she really was naked on top of him. Chloe chuckled, wiggling her hips a little and planting a soft kiss to his neck. "I feared I was about to wake up, in my bed, ashamed, with my sheet cum-glued to my bits." There was a brief moment of silence before Chloe snorted into laughter, Lucifer following suit after feigning offense.

"So, you finally did it," she stated, once she was able to stop giggling like a twelve-year-old girl. "You finally got me naked."

"Oh, I never had any doubt I would get you naked, Professor," he chimed, throwing on his typical smug face before kissing her forehead affectionately. "I just wasn't sure the means to which I would get you there."

She stuck her tongue out at him, slapping his chest playfully. The heat of his skin and movement of muscle beneath her palm brought fire back to her center, and she slowly peered at him through her lashes. "Shower?" she asked, voice low and sultry.

He raised an eyebrow up at her before running his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. He rolled his eyes, sighing, as he gently shoved her towards the back of the couch to rearrange himself and start to stand. "Bloody hell, she finally gets a ride and now I'll never get her off me," he sighs into the air, mock exasperation laced in his words, accent thick with spirited energy.

Her mouth fell open wide, surprise and sass clearly expressed on her soft features. "Oh, that's how it is?"

"Can't a man have a few minutes before you attack him again?" he retorted with a smile before bolting up the stairs as quickly as his ridiculously well-fit jeans would allow. Once she was alone, she smiled to herself, face tipping down towards her chest as a blush spread over her cheeks and nose. She was happy. She felt free and alive, and _fucked_, and she would not let herself feel guilty about it. It was too natural. Too right. She would let that horrifying truth sink in at a later date, when she didn't have 6'3" (191 cm) of well-built man about to get into her shower.

All of _that_ could be dealt with later. It was still playtime.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Okay… so there's a bit of (hopefully) Russian in here. I'm not Russian. I don't know Russian, so, please, if you know Russian, let me know if there's a mistake. I put the phonetic pronunciation in parentheses, for effect. *Shoves chapter towards you* Here….. This is what happens when I'm feeling both comedic and horny. **

**We're on the fast-lane towards the end here, guys. Expect some heavy plot in the future. It's going to get pretty dark, so if that doesn't sound like something you're up for, I've appreciated your support up to his point. Cheers! Prost! ****Slàinte****!**

* * *

In her dark apartment, the only light coming from the harsh blue-light of her laptop, Maze worked diligently. She was pissed. Absolutely pissed. She was hurt, too, but she ignored that just like every other emotion she deemed useless. Pain and anger were the only things she ever needed to feel. Resentment wasn't bad, either. She had been trying to reach Lucifer all night. When she found his apartment dark and empty, there was a brief moment of panic thinking that Gabriel had decided he wasn't needed after all. She found no trace of foul play in his apartment, and no one could hide that shit from her. Lucifer had left willingly. Meaning, Lucifer had left to go do the thing he said he fucking wouldn't. Go be with Chloe Decker.

Any pang of jealously was dampened by the overwhelming rage she felt. He was beyond reckless, selfish, and just fucking stupid. She shouldn't be on her fucking laptop doing illegal shit for a man that couldn't even help himself properly. Yet, there she was, doing illegal shit on her fucking laptop for a man that didn't truly appreciate her for everything she was willing to do for him. Such as potentially find where said estranged brother was staying in Los Angeles, or find out that he had been in cahoots with a certain chairwoman at the school. The same chairwoman that Lucifer had been _servicing_ like a damn sex-toy/fuck-puppet on legs. Why he used his beautiful body like that baffled her. Sure, she used her looks to get what she wanted, but she never let a soul touch her unless she wanted them to touch her. A few fingers down storm-drains could attest to that.

Using a few unnamed sources and airport CCTV footage, she was able to pinpoint three men that fit the physical descriptions of Gabriel, and from there, she was able to track their actions and reduce the number down to one. One very large man had rented a charcoal-grey GMC Yukon from LAX (like a fucking amateur, but confidence got you a lot of places), and that same vehicle had been spotted on traffic-cam footage throughout L.A., especially on roads headed towards Lucifer's college. Once might assume big-ass vehicle, like a Yukon, would be the most impractical SUV for someone trying to remain unseen, but a Yukon could fit a body in it. Easy. Not just one. Multiple. A body could be folded all sorts of ways into that SUV and never be seen from the road. Maze was quite aware of that.

Her sources gave her a list of potential hotels that the Gabriel-sized man could be staying based off of the Yukon's travel patterns, as well as a few personal messages between Gabriel and Charlotte Richards. One topic was extremely promising and described, in detail, the job that Lucifer had been given. Plain as day, the conversation explained how Lucifer knew where to go, but he didn't know _who_ he was going to. Maze knew. And Maze knew that if Lucifer knew…. There would be hell to pay. If there was anything that would make Lucifer homicidal, it was being manipulated.

Gathering her list of possible hotels, strapping a few knives into her hidden holsters, and even grabbing her just-in-case tazer, Maze closed her laptop and took her ceremonial time-to-kick-ass shot of top-shelf bourbon before storming out of her apartment. She didn't leave a note for Lucifer in case he came back looking for her, _if_ he fucking remembered to check-in with her, that is. He would just have to deal. Get a little taste of his own goddamn medicine. Let him worry about her for a bit. She had encrypted all of her other files, leaving the few harmless ones that just _suggested_ she was looking into Gabriel, for if Lucifer decided to check her laptop. Maybe knowing she was doing her part would make him feel like the piece of shit he was.

Throwing her leg over her motorcycle did two things to her each time: made her feel like a fucking queen, and made her tingle in all the right places. Honestly, it could replace any of her vibrators if she could grind herself down onto it while driving. She let those feelings take over any trepidation that betrayed her hard exterior. She wasn't stupid. She knew Gabriel was beyond dangerous. She knew Lucifer's entire family was dangerous. She was dangerous, too, and she was certain they had no idea she even existed. She left no online fingerprint. Her phone couldn't be traced, and she never appeared in Lucifer's cell history if his system was hacked. She was invisible, and she hoped that was enough of an advantage. She'd fight for him. He'd done enough fighting in his lifetime. He deserved to have some peace, even if it wasn't with her.

Ugh. She was disgusted with herself for thinking that. She would have to do something incredibly dominating and humiliating to her next Mistress Maze client.

* * *

The whole thing had been completely unplanned. Sure, he had gone over to Chloe's house to finally, _finally_, feel her from the inside, but he had no intention of letting _that_ happen. It came out of nowhere, and while he typically found pleasure in being the dominant, the aggressor (if they were into that sort of thing, and it wasn't Maze trying to fasten his balls to a 9-volt battery), the way Chloe fell into a power-fuelled role was something he couldn't ignore. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be good for her, to show her how good he could be, to let him give her everything she needed and derive pleasure from that.

After everything that had been happening, from the guilt of the deal with Charlotte, to still fucking Charlotte, and that one guy she _suggested_, to his family thrusting themselves back into his life like a 10 lbs (4.5 kgs) dildo attached to fuck-all fuck-machine aimed directly at his un-lubed ass. More specifically, Gabriel nonchalantly threatening Chloe and her kid. It had to be a culmination of all the shit going down in his life that made the idea of being completely pliant and used so appealing. Because it was. It was literally the best sex he had ever had, and he was probably ruined for anyone else because of that woman.

The couch had been enough to make him feel completely wrecked. And then _the shower_ happened. She had quickly found him trying to decide which door to go in, so he followed her as she walked right past him, into her room, and into the bathroom, in all her naked glory. Once under the spray of almost too-hot water, he had pressed her back against his chest, pried two fingers into her mouth, and sank three inside her and had fucked her slow and deep with his fingers. He had told her how tight she was, how hot she had felt around his cock. He had told her that she could have anything she wanted. He would give her anything. She could use him any way she deemed necessary. He had pet her tongue and licked along her neck while she came, praising her the entire time.

Then she had rendered him speechless by dropping to her knees and sucking his length down into her mouth, gagging herself on him repeatedly until he was spilling himself down her throat. He had moaned obscenely, an embarrassing thing, when he couldn't even taste himself in her mouth. She had just fucking taken it straight down her esophagus like the fucking goddess she was. Both sated, momentarily they had finished washing and rinsing, and then she had taken them to her bed. Still naked, by the way. He held her close, wrapping her up in his arms and letting her body mold to the shape of his front. He fell asleep almost immediately. The first time he hadn't taken anything to knock himself out, and he had slept like a fucking buried rock.

Since he slept so hard, so soundly, he woke right when the sun was starting to cast the slightest glow through the window. He was almost startled when the scent of fresh linen and lavender filled his senses instead of the smell of his own cologne and the hint of cigarettes. He felt the undeniable warmth of another body pressed lightly against the side of his body. He was on his stomach, arms slightly asleep from being lifted over his head and under the marshmallow-like pillow against his cheek. He doesn't remember the last time he opened his eyes and immediately smiled. He doesn't remember the last time he ever had something to smile about first thing in the morning, either. After his eyes had adjusted to being open, he was made breathless by the sight before him. The delicate, smooth expanse of tanned skin with gentle lines of bone and swells of muscle and flesh. She was on her side, back turned to him, and the curve where her neck met her shoulder was almost too inviting. Her honey-blond hair looked spilled over her own pillow and back, and he could see the graceful rise and fall of her breathing along the slope of her waist. She looked like two hills of golden wheat with a soft valley between them; shimmering in the barely-woken sun.

Deciding that he really was just too selfish a person to not reach out, he lifted his arm out from under the pillow, blood tingling as it was finally allowed to refill veins properly, and placed his fingertips on her shoulder. He kept his touch feather-light, a barely-there whisper of skin brushing skin, and he traced the line of her shoulder down her arm. He could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin, and he allowed himself to feel good about it. That he could elicit such a response from a delicate action. Being someone unable to do anything partially, he applied a little more pressure when his fingers landed on her hip. He brushed down towards her lower back, pressing his palm to her skin. His fingers spanned across half her back that way and it only highlighted her delicate, but strong, frame. He could feel his dick buzzing to life, and it wasn't the typical morning wood, either, as he traced her spine up to the back of her neck. He froze in place when a soft moan could be heard and her body shifted slightly.

He lifted his hand and winced when he could see that she was waking up. He had hoped to be a creep with his somnophilia a little longer. Like a royal cat that had been snoozing, she stretched her long, lean body and turned over gracefully. Even in the dim, early morning glow, he could see her bright smile, and his heart instantly melted. Her hair was everywhere, he could feel it tickling his own hair, and her sleepy eyes made him want to eat her alive. She was the most beautiful and adorable thing he had ever seen. She was all the beauty and grace of a woman, as well as the playful cuteness of someone younger.

"доброе утро красавица _(dobroye utro krasavitsa_)," He lulled, the foreign words rolling off his tongue effortlessly. He licked his lips and smiled at her confused expression, rubbing at her eyes as if trying to make sure the same person was in her bed that she fell asleep with.

"What the hell did you just say?" she questioned, her voice still rough and low from sleep. She crinkled her nose before scooting closer to him. His arm draped naturally over her waist as their legs entwined beneath the covers.

"Good morning, beautiful," he answered in his best, most outrageous Russian accent. The one Putin might just try to assassinate him for. She closed her eyes and laughed, a light thing, before opening her eyes, the corners crinkling slightly.

"I'm not even really surprised," she said, shaking her head at his obvious enjoyment. She stared at him for a few seconds, watching as he rolled his neck to stretch, his face going slack when he seemed to relax a tense spot. She bit her lip until he looked back at her, as innocently as someone that literally had to hold her up while he finger-fucked her senseless in the shower could. "I want to tell you something, but I'm pretty sure it's only going to feed into you're already enormous ego."

"Oh, okay," he quirked, doing his best imitation of flipping his hair back like a diva in preparation for whatever compliment he was sure to receive. "I'm ready," he finished, smirking and tilting his chin up.

Chloe rolled her eyes, fearing that she might get stuck that way if she continued to spend time with him. "It's really unfair how hot you are," she all but spat out, without any heat, regretting the words instantly at the way his smile widened and acted as if he just couldn't believe it.

"The Russian does it for you, huh?"

"Oh, _god_," she groaned, covering her face with her hands, regretting everything she had said in the past few minutes. The feeling didn't last long, suddenly hot, heavy weight was working its way between her thighs, a thick, toned torso pressing her body down into the mattress.

"I have a question," he informed her, voice low and sensual as his hands found hers and pinned them to the pillows by her head. His body moved in barely noticeable roll that pushed her hips further down into the bed, her legs casually circling his hips.

"I might have an answer," she replied, plastering a coy expression on her face. He rolled his hips again and she silently cursed him for making her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Can I fuck you?" His lips remained parted as he hovered over her, his eyes darting back and forth between her own and her mouth. Waiting, wanting, desperately hoping she agrees.

"Yes, please," she answered breathily, his mouth on her hungrily before the last word was barely past her lips. They moaned softly into their mouths, tongues rubbing against one another and tasting as deeply as they could. He was so big and heavy on top of her, and she loved how his body covered hers without feeling stifling. Just as quickly as he claimed her mouth, he was moving his way down her body. Lips and stubble brushing and scraping skin, laving at her nipples until they were impossibly pert. He kissed down her ribs, dragging teeth along the soft skin of her stomach and licking her hip bones until she was writhing.

He kissed, licked, and sucked his way down, further and further until his tongue could slide through her juicy folds and gather her essence to drink down. She gasped, arching her back as his hands slid down and wrapped around her hips, holding her in place as he fucked into her with smooth, wet muscle; lips on lips. Her hands shot down, digging into his thick hair and tugging in the ways she found he liked the most. The air was thick with damp, panting breaths and a cacophony of gasps and moans. It was music for the sun to rise to; a building rhythm that increased with the light and the passing of time. When she came, suddenly the sounds stopped, the air was still, and muscle was no longer smooth, but rigid. The only sense either of them had was the feeling of skin on skin; wet licks between her legs, warm embrace around his head.

Noise came back to her in the form of smacks as he kissed his way back up her body before tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. She drug her nails down his sides until she felt the hard curve of his hips beneath her fingertips. He shuddered, a absurdly sexual sound, grinding his hips down onto her harder, without abandon.

"Again," he growled into her throat, tongue pressing flat against her pulse, trying to taste the blood in her veins. Eagerly, she repeated the actions, this time digging into his heated skin a little harder, possibly enough to hurt more than feel good. That only seemed to urge him along, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw with a sharp inhale of air. Chloe licked her lips, trying to lift her head to kiss him, but he pulled back, looking down at her darkly. "Turn over."

He lifted himself off of her, on hands and knees, as she quickly turned over, bracketed by his arms. The second she was on her stomach, he lowered himself back down on top of her, thighs hugging the outside of her legs, hard cock resting on her lower back. He thrust over her, experimentally, just feeling their bodies together, before angling his hips to let his dick slide between her thighs, not sinking in just yet. With a gasp, she angled her hips back and up, giving him the right position to be able to slide into her when he wanted. In a single, languid motion, he pressed a palm into her upper back, between her shoulder blades, and slid home into the wet heat of her waiting hole. He groaned, putting more of his weight onto her back and there was a loud pattern of cracks as his hips slammed into her ass.

They both froze until Chloe let out a long, harsh moan, giggling towards the end of it. "Holy fuck, that felt amazing!" She wiggled her hips and Lucifer could feel tension releasing along her spine and traps.

"Are you alright?" he asked, only slightly alarmed. He wasn't one of those men who believed women to be delicate and fragile. He knew first hand that they could take, well, a pounding better than a man could (which he also knew first hand). "That felt... almost violent."

"No, I'm great, holy shit," she groaned into the sheet, a pleased smile painting her face. "You could just keep doing that and I'd be so happy." She giggled some more, stretching her back as best she could in the position she was, and, you know, with a cock buried inside her. He chuckled, too, leaning down to place a soft kiss to the back of her neck before returning to his original position.

"I guess being your personal chirofucker… fuckupractor? I guess that's not so bad," he joked, and it was wrong that the words actually sounded charming coming out of his mouth with that _damned_ accent of his.

"In that case, get to work, Doc," she sassed, smirking over her shoulder and shaking her ass with his dick still inside her. "There's things that still need your attention."

"Oh, of course," he drawled, adjusting his hand on her back, applying just enough pressure to get her attention and slightly push air out of her lungs. She loved it. "Remember, just tell me if I'm using too much pressure, or going too deep." She could _hear_ the smirk on his face before he made good on his word, pressing into the center of her back with one hand and the back of her right hip with the other, using her body for leverage. She _really_ loved that.

"How's that Ms. Decker?" he asked, slightly out of breath. As he should be, he had been pounding into her with the force of the Spanish Bull Run for the last few minutes. "Does that seem to be helping you?"

Chloe bit her lip, a small, open-mouthed smile permanent on her face by this point. "I definitely feel something happening," she stammered, managing only to gasp once during the entire statement. She was proud of herself for that, sue her. "But I think I might need a bit more." She didn't have to wait long. Goddamn, the man could listen.

"I couldn't agree more," he moaned, tightening his knees around her outer thighs. "There really is nothing quite like some hard, deep pressure to make things right again." Lowering himself down further, pressing his forearm into her back, grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the bed with his other hand, he fucked into her relentlessly, powerfully, as if testing the integrity of her bedframe with every thrust. It seemed to be holding up, however, the creak was something new and probably something she should check. After. After this _very special_ adjustment.

"Yes, Lucifer, _just like that," _she groaned out, teeth instinctively finding a bit of fabric to bite on to as he plowed into her harder and harder with each thrust. Air was being pushed from her lungs every time his hips snapped against her ass, and she loved the dizzying feeling of not getting quite enough oxygen (oh god, he wasn't even choking her).

"Yeah, that what you like?" he grunted, head tilting back in effort to keep up the brutal pace. "When you're not taking what you want, you want to be used like this?"

"_Oh fuck, yes," _she gasped, the hand not being held down reached behind her, grasping for his thigh and clutching the contracting muscles of his leg. "It's your turn, fucking take it." She smiled wickedly when he cursed, his thrusts stuttering for a split second while her words attached themselves to ever filthy fantasy his head could come up with. Keeping his hand on her back, his other wedged itself between her and the mattress so he could rub at her clit while he fucked her senseless. She whined, lifting her hips as much as she could to give him more access, but he only pressed on her back harder. Somehow, as if by the will of god, he was able to fuck her harder than she had ever been fucked in her entire life _and_ rub her clit with light enough pressure to keep it from being painful. He was a god. He had to be.

"Come on, Professor," he urged, leaning down and licking along her shoulder. "Cum for me, I can feel you right on the edge." His soft tongue was replaced with the sharp edge of teeth, harshly sinking into flesh and biting down, surely leaving a mark. She came with a strangled shout, one brought in and out of pitch by his hips slamming into her. She could feel herself clenching around his cock, thick drags of hard length wrecking her insides and burning into her soul. "So fucking perfect," he panted, clearly trying to keep himself under control. He slid his hand away from her clit, returning it to its rightful spot on her hip. Gripping her, holding her down where he wanted her.

"You gonna come in me or on me, Lucifer?" she asked lazily, thoroughly fucked, and she knew he couldn't expect her to sound anything less that _fucked_. She looked back over her shoulder, groaning at the site of his face, his body, glistening and glowing. Magnificent.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, _fuck_," he whispered quickly, eyes closing for a blink as he reigned in whatever strength he had left to not cum on the spot. "Turn back over." After some slick maneuvering, Chloe found herself on her back while Lucifer crawled his way up her body until his knees were directly under his arms, cock pointed right at her chest. Catching the memo, she squeezed her breasts together with her hands, giving him some nice cleavage to aim for. He seemed pleased by that, reaching out with the hand _not_ violently stroking his cock and sticking his thumb right past her lower lip. He whimpered lightly before growling as the first spurts of his release shot out and streaked over her skin in warm ribbons.

"Oh, the little boy in me is so happy right now," he sighed out, his voice slightly higher than it normal was as he slowed his strokes on his cock, body quivering in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Chloe knit her brows together, opening her mouth to speak, but quickly closing it again. Lucifer took a few breaths, sighing again and nodding his head. Of course she wouldn't know it had been the dream of teenage-Lucifer to cum all over those perfect tits. "The big boy is, too, no worries." He finished his statement with a lopsided grin, panting and sweaty, looking way too good for someone that just ran a fucking marathon with their cock.

Chloe watched him catch his breath, large hands dangling at his sides, chest heaving with every deep breath. He was fucking gorgeous; all height and thick build, dark hair and even darker eyes. Still feeling the high effects of being fucked within an inch of her sanity, she ran her hands all over her chest, smearing his cum before bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking her hands clean. She watched, through hooded eyes, as his mouth parted, and an almost pained expression appeared on his face.

"You really are trying to kill me," he whimpered, biting his lips as she kept cleaning the mess off of herself. Fucking with him was slowly making its way up her Fun Things to Do list. She nodded playful and sucked her middle finger into her mouth, which initiated a few valiant twitches from his softening cock. They both looked down, both equally as shocked. "Obviously he has no regard for my mild cardiac arrhythmia right now," he joked, laughing only when she started to giggle.

"Oh, poor guy, I'll take it easy on you," she jested, laughing when he huffed at her incredulously. She sat up, moving her legs to rest on the outside of his thighs as she leaned forward towards him. He lowered his torso, knuckles on the bed, smiling in her space before bumping his nose on hers. "Great job, Doc, I feel completely refreshed," she whispered, sticking her tongue out to lick along his chin. He seemed to melt into her touch, sighing softly, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly.

"Always nice to hear that from a customer," he contributed to the play, his eyes remaining closed, face still soft and pliant. "If you could please give me a five-star review on Yelp-" he started, but was cut off by her choking with laughter. "My new business and I would greatly appreciate it." She pushed him away, forcing him to fall off to the side, back against the bed, as she got up and walked to the bathroom.

"I need a shower," she stated, just barely catching the way his eyes perked up at her very normal, in no way shape or form suggestive, statement. "Down, boy," she commanded, laughing as he pouted at her but fell back on the bed, throwing his arms over his eyes with a huff.

* * *

Chloe all but bounced down the stairs in her home after a wonderful morning of hardcore sex followed by hot shower. As she started on coffee, she could faintly hear the shower still running, a thrill knowing exactly who is standing in that shower. They woke early, rather, Lucifer woke her early, so it was a bit of a shock when she heard a frantic knock on her front door. Panic. Her internal self was kicking herself for allowing herself to be in this position. It was okay, it was probably the neighbor looking for her senile dog again, she thought. Reluctantly abandoning the half-prepared coffee maker, she fast-walked to the front door. When she opened it, she had no time to say anything before a very energetic Latina woman was bursting through her entryway, mouth already running a mile a minute.

"Chloe, you would not _believe_ the crap that has been going on," Ella stated, hands waving in the air, eyes wide with stress. Chloe could do nothing but watch her friend and former colleague traipse around her home, a ball of stress, while Lucifer was, probably, touching himself in the shower.

"Ella, shouldn't you be heading to work?" she asked, hoping it didn't come off as desperate as it sounded. Luckily, Ella was never very good at understanding inflection when she was in one of her _episodes_.

"Yeah, I told L.T. I would be a few minutes late. I need some Tribe-member assistance!" she nearly yelled, looking as if she had already had about five espresso shots at almost nine in the morning. Before Chloe could ask what she could possibly be needing help with this early on a weekday, Ella turned around and stood as still as a toddler could. "Everything is going bonkers! I mean, first my rescue duck, Squeakers, isn't adjusting well to the bathtub-"

"Wait. Why do you have a rescue duck named Squeakers?" Chloe asked, because clearly that was the most important thing at the time.

"He broke his beak, can't quack, can only squeak," Ella explained, closing her eyes as if that had been the hundredth time explaining it. "Anyways, he's not adjusting to life in my apartment, or my bathtub, not to mention the cute guy at Church asked me out…. _AT CHURCH!_" she exclaimed, as if that was the most ludicrous thing she had said so far.

Chloe stood still, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes wide, truly unsure of what to say, or what Ella _wanted_ her to say. "But didn't you want him to ask you out?" she finally questioned, biting her lip when Ella's face turned to utter shock.

"Yeah, but what kind of man asks someone out at church? Like, right after communion!" she argued, and she said a few more things after that, but Chloe was forced to hold back even more panic when she heard the distant sound of her shower turning off.

"Ella, I think maybe he was just taking the opportunity he had to see you to as you," Chloe countered, really hoping she could get the woman out of her house before anything drastic happened.

The smaller woman stopped vibrating, staring a Chloe with her eyes narrowed, clearly thinking on something. Finally, she nodded, biting her lip and continuing to pace, unfortunately, right by the stairs. Chloe really hoped her tight smile didn't seem too disingenuous. "You're right. Maybe. Yeah, makes sense. I literally never see him anywhere other than church… so…," Ella said, her face becoming slightly less stressed. "Okay, yeah, so, I'm already feeling better. But I just got an email this morning that our bondsman, or rather bad-ass bondswoman, put in that she would be away indefinitely. So there's that. Damnit, she really did bring them in," Ella continued again, more words that Chloe couldn't quite follow.

Chloe knew the woman she was talking about. Chloe also knew that Lucifer knew the woman she was talking about. "Maze, right? She's gone for a while?"

Without looking at the other woman, Ella replied. "Yeah, said she had some personal matters to attend to, or something. I don't know. Just know she won't be doing any jobs for us any time soon." At this point, Ella was standing with her back towards the stairs. That was the only relief Chloe had, knowing that she might be able to motion Lucifer back up if he decided to don his presence. Just as quickly as she had barged in, Ella began to retreat towards the front door, and the rest was in slow motion. "Okay, anyway, I should get going, I need more coffee before I make it into the off-" she was cut off when she turned around and ran into a very bare, very wet, Lucifer.

"Now, I'm half convinced you left this poor excuse for a towel on purpose," he started, but was cut off by Ella running right into him. Chloe was behind Ella, eyes wide in absolute terror, Lucifer looked mildly confused, looking down at the much smaller person that had run into him before looking back up to Chloe, mouth parting. Chloe couldn't see Ella's face, but she could only imagine the expression, noting how she had not moved her hands off of Lucifer's chest from when she ran into him.

Seeming to come back to herself, Ella dropped her hands as if she had been burned and backed away, turning to the side so she could see both Chloe and Lucifer. True to his word, he did have a towel, the poor excuse for a towel she had left him. The very small hand towel that managed to only cover dick-and-balls, and left every other inch of skin exposed. Especially those very delicious V lines at his hips. He still had water droplets on his body… just rolling down bulky muscle and toned skin. Not to mention, his hair was wet and falling all over his forehead. He looked like he just walked on to the set of some Lifeguard porno.

"Chlo… that's the guy from the bar," Ella finally spoke, eyes darting between Chloe and Lucifer in quick succession. She still looked like she was in shock. Chloe couldn't blame her. At least she had been able to have a few interactions with a clothed Lucifer before she had been blessed with all _that_.

"Yes it is," Chloe answered, trying to sound light, as if it was completely natural for him to be there in that state.

"That's the sexy, foreign student from the bar," Ella included, holding up her hand and literally pointing at Lucifer. It looked a bit ridiculous, to be honest. Ella probably went up to his chest, and she was looking at him as if he were some angel sent down from Heaven to show her the light, or some shit.

"Yes it is," Lucifer lulled, voice deep and accent on full-blast. He smirked at Chloe before giving Ella the most insanely attractive smile she had ever seen. The bastard.

"That's the sexy, foreign student from the bar, naked, and wet, in your house," Ella continued, as if it were her responsibility to note every detail of their very disastrous situation.

"Yes," Chloe sighed, covering her eyes to avoid another smirk from Lucifer. It would surely make her smile, and she didn't want to smile at that time. She wanted to dig a hole and never come out of it. Ella gave Lucifer a final, full-body once-over before turning her attention to Chloe, her mouth and eyes open wide, expression nothing but proud and astonished. She was fucking ecstatic about it.

"I'm just going to…" Lucifer started, slowly backing up to the stairs and high-tailing it back up them to a safe place away from raging estrogen. He did so, cursing quietly, when he realized he gave them both a perfect view of his bare, wet ass before he disappeared behind the wall. Ella noticed.

The smaller woman made a move to start talking, but Chloe was already there, placing her hands on her shoulders and moving her towards the door. "Ella, I love you, but I can't talk about this right now."

"Yeah, of course!" she agreed, smile only getting bigger. They were just steps away from the door before Ella started jumping up at down as if she had won the lottery. "Good for you girl, getting that young piece of ass all up in your shit!"

"Shhhh! He can probably hear you!" Chloe whisper-yelled, in that way that really wasn't all that quiet, but gave the point of being quiet across.

"Yes, I can!" Lucifer called from upstairs, muffled voice just oozing with amusement. He was fucking loving it, she knew it. Ella all but squealed as Chloe opened the door and ushered her friend out. The other woman yelled something about giving her all the details, to which Chloe reluctantly nodded to before shutting her door and locking it. With a little more aggression that necessary. She sighed, heavily and deeply, before turning around. She regretted it the moment she did it, because she was met with Lucifer again, sans tiny towel.

"Well, I do hope I continue to make a great impression on that small woman," Lucifer quipped, completely ignoring his nakedness.

Chloe, proud of herself for only staring at his dick for two seconds, gave him her best Professor-Detective-Mom face. "Lucifer, put some damn clothes on."

Lucifer, looking both shocked and aroused, raised an eyebrow, tongue in cheek. "Oh, yes, ma'am," he drawled, giving her a mini salute before heading towards the area where they divested themselves of clothing the night before. "I've never been told to put my clothes _on_ before, and I have to say, got me a little excited."

Chloe rolled her eyes, definitely concerned they would stay that way because she just couldn't stop doing it around him. Regardless of the ridiculousness of him and his complete lack of shame, she was smiling. She was happy. It was okay.

After giving herself a few moments to calm the hell back down from that event, she followed him back towards the kitchen to finish making the much-needed coffee, elixir of life. She was gifted the wonderful sight of Lucifer's backside in those insane jeans, no shirt, back muscles working as he seemed to be buttoning his pants. She always felt the scars on his back, even under whatever shirt he was wearing, but seeing them always took her breath away. The various colors of pinks, tans, and whites that streaked across his skin like chalk lines on pavement: both smooth and jagged, solid and patchy. It wasn't just the severity, it was the sheer quantity. She had seem some crazy shit in her day, mostly on corpses, but she had never seen anything like that on anyone walking around with the swagger he had.

That sixth sense everyone seemed to have when they felt like they were being watched must have raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Lucifer looked over his shoulder briefly, his face not stony, simply serious. He bent down and grabbed his shirt, tugging it on slowly, not trying to hide the obvious. "You can ask, you know."

"Do you want to tell me?" she asked softly, walking over to him, touching his arm as she continued towards the kitchen. It was her turn to look over her shoulder, and she was happy to see that he was following her, leaning against the kitchen island.

"It's not a long story, really," he stated, nonchalance perfected over years of numbing himself to his side. "I come from a rather untraditional family with a specific philosophy. I didn't fit into that philosophy anymore." Chloe turned around as she started the coffee pot, crossing her arms lightly, one side or her mouth turning up in a listening smile. "My brother was tasked with explaining the error of my ways, and things got heated. A broken window and a fall from a balcony, and here we are, five years later." He said it so calmly, although she could see the hurt in his eyes, the betrayal. He pretended that it didn't bother him, the rejection, but she could see it did.

"Your brother did that to you?" Her voice was quieter than she had wanted, but it was hard to wrap her head around the fact that anyone's family could do that to them. Could allow that. Could be the cause of it.

"I'm fairly certain he didn't want to," Lucifer admitted, lowering his gaze to his hands on the counter, a self-depreciating smile and chuckle pushing past his lips. "He's just got an even shorter temper than I do, and he's a tad self-righteous." Chloe made a move to say something, to say that it wasn't an excuse, but Lucifer held up a hand, kindly. "No, my father allowed this." Lucifer seemed to realize he had probably divulged too much, and decided to shrug, sighing as if he could rid himself of the negative energy with a few deep breaths. "It doesn't matter, it was so long ago, and my life is different now." He smiled at her, and while she returned his smile with one of her own, there was a muffled chime, a notification, coming from the direction of the couch. Lucifer seemed to recognize the barely audible sound and went to dig his phone, no doubt, out of the couch cushion from where it had most likely fallen out of his pants in all the commotion of the previous night.

Chloe grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and poured them coffee. She pulled the cream out of the fridge for herself and put a mug of black coffee on the island for Lucifer. She watched as his face fell as he read the notification on his phone while he walked back to the counter. He thanked her for the coffee, face still drawn tight, staring at his phone. "Everything alright?" she asked, sipping her coffee once it was the right sweetness and color. Lucifer took a long pull from the steaming mug, moaning lightly, and Chloe tried to ignore what that sound did to her body.

"Yeah, just," Lucifer started, trailing off and taking another sip of coffee. He seemed to be taking something in, thinking hard about whatever it was he was looking at, before shoving his phone in his pocket. Somehow. She would have to ask Ella about the science of skin-tight jeans and pockets. "Work stuff."

"Do you need to leave?" She hoped she didn't sound disappointed. She shouldn't be disappointed. If anything she should be disgusted for even implying she could be disappointed about him leaving.

"Yeah," he answered, giving her a weak smile before draining his coffee. He pushed off the island, narrowly missing the mess of "food" from last night that was left there literally not getting any worse than it was. He dropped his mug in the sink before wrapping his arms around her, pulling he head against his chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him close, feeling the warmth. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she answered, almost too quickly, leaning back to look at him, smiling a little too hard. "It's fine. I have some shit I need to do anyways." He smiled back at her as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. It was soft, welcoming, inviting. He kissed her gently, but no less passionately. Lips pressing and rubbing, the barely-there parting of lips, tongues touching for the briefest of seconds before he pulled away out of necessity.

"Promise me something?" he asked, his lips just hovering over hers, knowing he was making her shake on purpose.

"Yeah," she breathed, licking her lips and waiting for him to ask her anything.

"Don't eat the food on the counter." He gave her a quick kiss before pulling away entirely, afraid of whatever reaction she was going to have. Her mouth fell open in shock as she started to laugh. He winked at her before back away to find his shoes. Once he had everything he needed, he ran back over to her, kissing her again before walking towards the door. "I'm sure I'll be in my usual attire the next time you see me, no worries," he informed her with a wink before walking out of the door, closing it quietly behind him. Chloe continued to sip her coffee, a smile still on her face, although there was a hint of something else. Was it worry? Intrigue? Whatever it was, she shook her head, looked at the surely spoiled food on the counter, waited two seconds, and then proceeded to throw it all away, although she hadn't _actually_ promised.

* * *

It had been such a great fucking night, and morning. Everything, all of it, had been perfect. The text put a damper on his mood, that's for sure, but his dick was still oh so happy. Lucifer was still oh so happy. Like a damn school girl that just got a secret not from her crush. Fuck. He was so fucked with her. He got out of her neighborhood and drove down close to where the address Gabriel had sent him was. He was given two. A home and a work address, fairly close. He was surprised by the information, actually; it seemed Gabriel really wanted this to be a cut-and-dry job. He even gave Lucifer a vehicle description and plates. This would be the easiest fucking job Lucifer had ever done, and once his only job had been to help cut lines of coke for one of his father's most notorious customers, Mrs. Lilith, when he was 17. Yes. He did indeed fuck that one up by fucking the client. Oops. However, now that Lucifer was much older and had been in more human orifices than pairs of underwear, he gathered he'd be able to do this one without a hitch.

He parked his car a few buildings down from the work address provided to him, hoping that he would be able to see the target's vehicle leave for lunch later. He wanted to get a pattern, even though he wasn't sure he needed it. Didn't hurt to have details to use for leverage in the intimidating process. Tapping the steering wheel, he pulled out his phone to call Maze. She might be asleep, but he figured she would want to yell at him since he did, in fact, do exactly what she had said he shouldn't. Knowing Maze, she would be pissed, livid, would probably try to hit his balls at some point, but she would want to hear from him. To hear he was being smart and just doing the job. Not being obstinate for the sake of nostalgia. The sooner Gabriel got what he wanted, the sooner he was out of his life (hopefully). He would just have to explain to Maze that staying away from Chloe wouldn't change anything. Plus, it made him feel better being able to hear for her, see her, hold her. If he was touching her, she was safe. It turned out he was more trying to convince himself of that than it being total fact, but that was something for him to worry about at a different time.

The phone rang once before the voicemail message played. He called more than once, knowing she only put her calls directly to voicemail when she was on a job. He didn't think she had a bounty, then again, she wasn't really giving him her To-Do list, either. She wouldn't have a Mistress Maze client this early, and they _never_ stayed the night. After the fifth time hearing Maze tell _the fucker on the line to leave a message if it involved knives or sex_, he gave up, only throwing his phone to the passenger seat with a hint of violence. So he sat, and watched, fitting into an old behavior easier than he wished. It was like putting on a mask. Suddenly he was Lucifer Morningstar, son and Enforcer for Golden Gate. Lucifer Morningstar: secret-keeper, aggressor, intimidator. He closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into his seat, adjusting his sunglasses, and staring at the exit of the parking garage for the target's office building. He would be able to stay here for hours. He hated how sure of that he was. He hated how easy he could do this. He hated how calm he felt about it.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: okay guys, just a few things before we get into the nitty gritty here. This is a bit of a heavy chapter, content-wise. I'll be cautious and say there may be descriptions of uncomfortable situations for some. There's descriptions of being held hostage, slight torture, and very minimal description of rape. I just needed to get that out so you can read at your own risk. I'm sure the next few chapters (the next, for sure) will be equally as triggering, so keep that in mind. Thanks, guys. We're getting closer to the end now, and I did promise a happy one.**

* * *

Lucifer let a few days pass by as if nothing was going on. He went to work, went to class, texted Chloe, did surveillance, ate, drank, popped a few pills, did surveillance, texted Chloe. He was surprised he was able to keep up with everything, however, a substantial supply of Adderall, Ritalin, and Red Bull made up for the utter lack of sleep. He was only slightly concerned with the lack of, well, _anything_, from Gabriel. It seemed he was making good on his word and letting Lucifer deal with it. Which he had to. That night. As per instruction from the fucking beat down he received. Suffice it to say, he had allowed himself to look at the bruises with disdain. It had been a while since he had be throttled so thoroughly.

He even managed to make it to his appointment with Charlotte. He was thrilled when all she wanted was for him to eat her out under her desk while she was on a conference call. He hated himself while he was down on his knees for that woman, not even wanting to pretend it was Chloe, because she deserved better than to be something that got him through that. When Charlotte had said her goodbyes to the other administrators, she had quickly tangled her fingers in his hair and rode his face until she came all over it. Once she was done, she had grabbed his face, gave him a sloppy kiss, and had kindly told him to get the fuck out of her sight. He did so with the upmost urgency.

Maze was still radio-silent. Not a text, not a call, not a fucking note. He wanted to by angry, because she always told him if she was away for a job, always told him to look-out if she wasn't back in 48 hours. He had no fucking clue where she was, or what she was doing. He tried to not let the face that he hadn't heard from Gabriel either swamp his thoughts. He would have heard from, at least, one of them by now if they had _become acquainted._ Something Chloe had texted him was unsettling, though. Apparently the small woman (Ella, because referring to her as Little Chola was _not_ appropriate) had been informed that LAPD's finest bondswoman was unavailable for the foreseeable future. _WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANT?!_

He was taking the old saying to heart: no news was good news. As far as the police scanner he had stolen from Maze's apartment informed him, there had been no double-homicides with bodies fitting either or their descriptions. No unnecessarily large, white male victim or hot, leather-clad woman with, quote unquote, lots of knives, hidden among her person. So, he was only about 38% worried. He wasn't to the point of binge drinking and going through your Mistress clientele folder… he wouldn't do _that_ again until he was, no less than, 73% worried. Maze was an incredibly capable woman. She was formidable against most, including men much larger than she was. Bless those Krav Maga skills she learned. She was deadly, and he let that information keep him calm and allow him the few hours a sleep he was getting.

The blur of motion brought him back to the reality of him sitting in his car, watching the target's vehicle exit the office parking garage. Lucifer cranked his engine, knowing this was his chance. The target had children, but his few days of surveillance showed that he was guaranteed at least an hour before the kids were home from their after-school activities. He only needed a few minutes. They guy didn't appear to be a physical threat, and Lucifer was betting his mental constitution wouldn't put up a fight, either. Not with Lucifer's size and expertise in small-joint manipulation.

He didn't need to follow the car directly, he had memorized the path from work address to home address in the few days of this endeavor. He chain-smoked until he parked his car three houses down from the target's home. Much like he did when he went to visit Chloe. He wasn't nervous, per say, but he didn't feel as confident as he typically felt. He dressed for the occasion: black slacks, white button-down, black shoes. If anyone saw him, or if the target called the cops, he would blend in easily to the post-work businessman class that surrounded the target. He wouldn't stick out, not like he would if he had worn all black. Yeah, officer, big-ass white guy in all black. Super handsome (he added that in there). No, he looked clean, casual, unsuspecting.

Now was as good a time as ever, he thought to himself, stepping out of his car when the street had been clear for over three minutes. He could feel his heart rate increasing as he walked to the house, long, relaxed strides; like he belonged there. He got to the door, taking a final, calming breath, only slightly shaky, and knocked. He waited approximately two minutes before the door opened, revealing a tired looking man, roughly five inches (12.7 cm) shorter than he was, pulling at his tie with obvious disdain. There was a moment where the man looked at Lucifer, clearly confused as to who the stranger was at the door, but that expression was quickly changed to shock when Lucifer pushed the door open and grabbed the man. He turned the guy around, pressing him against his front and forcing them into the house before the man's shouts would grab someone's attention. Once inside enough, Lucifer blindly reached behind himself to shut the door while holding onto the target, struggling only slightly.

"No, no, none of that, shhh, shhh," Lucifer cooed calmly, holding on to the struggling man, his back pressed to his chest, long arms wrapped around his front. "I'm not here to hurt you, just here to talk."

"Who the fuck are you?!" the man demanded, and Lucifer could feel the tremors from his body already. He felt guilty for making something that nervous, that afraid, but at least he didn't have the man worried for his children.

"Who I am doesn't matter," Lucifer informed him, walking until he found the living room, pointing the man towards the couch and shoving him down. The other man pushed himself against the back of the couch, as far as he could, staring up at Lucifer with a hard, terrified expression. Lucifer squat down directly in front of the man, forearms on his knees, maintaining eye contact during his decent. This put him eye-level, only slightly less intimidating. More direct. "What does matter is that you listen to me very carefully. Understood?" The man made a move to lean forward, mouth opening in what would be some sort of shout, but Lucifer held up a hand, eyes darkening in warning. "I want to stay civil, please don't make me do something you won't like."

The other man seemed to believe Lucifer's warning, realizing that he was outmatched, no way to escape without, physically, going through the larger man. "What do you want? Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice just below a shout, slightly quivering. "I don't have a lot of money, I don't have anything of value besides the TVs and-" he would have kept going, trying to bargain his safety with things if Lucifer hadn't held up his hand, keeping his face neutral.

"I'm not here for money," he assured him, raising an eyebrow and keeping his eyes on the other man. He watched his throat bob, sweat forming along his temples. "I'm just here to make sure you do what you're supposed to."

"What?" the man whispered, suddenly looking even more nervous. His hands had started to shake on his knees, and Lucifer wondered if backing up would calm him down, or give him an out. He really didn't want to have to touch the guy again. He didn't want to have to hurt him.

"I'm not here for myself," he started, interlacing his fingers between his crouched knees. "I'm here for someone else, and they need you to do what the lawyers have requested." Lucifer watched as his words sunk in. He could tell, the man thought about it and then recognition dawned on his features.

"The lawyers? The paperwork?" the man asked, his voice raising, growing angry. "The fucking custody papers? Are you telling me that fucking bitch sent you to make sure I sign her custody request?" Lucifer tried to keep his face neutral, but that definitely wasn't the content he figured this to be about. He thought it had to be divorce papers, alimony agreement, something. Not custody papers…

"I'm a third-party, I have no idea who wants you to sign the papers or why," Lucifer told him, feigning disinterest. "I'm here to persuade you that signing them is in your best interest."

"Oh really?" the man said, angry, no longer as scared. "What are you supposed to do, huh? Kill me if I don't? I fucking doubt it!"

"No, I was instructed to not hurt you, they don't want you harmed."

"I wouldn't think so! She fucking needs me to watch the kids when it doesn't fucking fit into her schedule. Can't do that if she gets some fucking British guy to kill me!" The man was started to stand, but Lucifer stood up first, pushing him back down onto the couch. He was beginning to lose his patience.

"I don't know who this person is, or even who you are," Lucifer argued, hardening his features, making sure the guy saw him as a threat, not an easy obstacle. "I don't want to be here all day; get the papers and sign them."

"Did she hire you or are you a client?" the man asked, staying firmly seated on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, even. "Is this a little quid pro quo for her getting you off a charge or something?"

"What?" it was Lucifer's turn to be confused, apparently.

"Richards. Charlotte fucking Richards? Only the best fucking defense attorney in LA?" he shouted, as if Lucifer was supposed to already know that information. The man kept talking, but he didn't hear any of it. Everything muffled out, sounded dulled, as if he were underwater.

"What about Charlotte Richards?" Lucifer asked, holding up a single finger, making it clear the man was to answer the question.

"She's my Ex, she's been bothering me to get partial custody of our kids. That's what she's wanting me to sign. Her bullshit custody agreement." The man's next words were lost on him again, his own heartbeat ringing in his ears, panic setting in. If this was for Charlotte, that meant that she and Gabrielle had talked, were working together. If Gabriel was doing a job for Charlotte, she had to be giving him something in return.

Lucifer ignored the man shouting as he stumbled out of the house, nearly running to his car, fear and rage boiling through his veins. He peeled out of the upper-middle class neighborhood and drove in the direction of the school. Charlotte would still be there, he was sure of it. He was hoping she would be. They had some things they needed to discuss. He needed to get to Charlotte before the man called someone. Before this got back to Gabriel.

* * *

Lucifer does his very best to walk casually into the criminal justice building, but he's boiling with rage, not nearly medicated enough to tolerate the utter bullshit that just became of his situation. He managed to not glare holes through the girls that smiled at him as he took the stars up to the offices three at a time. Her office door was closed, but he could hear her muffled voice. He listened for twenty seconds and opened the door when he heard no other voice. Charlotte's eyebrows went up slightly as he walked in and shut the door behind his back. She watched in disbelief as he walked right up to her desk, took the phone out of her hand and placed it back on the receiver without a word.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Lucifer shoved his hand against her mouth, thumb pressing against one cheek, his fingers against the other. "No, it's my turn to speak, Charlotte," he spat out, voice low and controlling. His other hand moved to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair to anchor her in place. She was a smart woman, she was a tough woman, and she wasn't easily frightened. Her eyes didn't widen, but they shone with something akin to aggravation, with a spark of concern. He stared at her while he gathered his thoughts, feeling the warm, steady puffs of her breath against his hand. "Seems like someone's chatting with the wrong people."

He can see it, when she realizes he knows what she's done. Her face eases some, the line between her brows softens, as if she's relieved that that's what he was talking about. He kept his face controlled, even though her reaction made him wonder. She looked down at his hand over her mouth and then back up at him, expectantly, raising an eyebrow. Narrowing his eyes, he lifted his hand from her mouth, not without pushing down _just_ enough to piss her off.

"It's really hot when you get aggressive Lucifer," she chimed, annoyance clear in her voice. One corner of her red lips was curved up in a fake smile, and she took his scowl as a small victory. "I've only met one sibling, but I'm going to assume you got most of the good looks." Her fake smile grew and it took everything out of him to not want to throw her out of the office window.

"Do you understand what you've done?" He asked her, tone flat, close to pleading. "I mean, do you really think whatever you've got going with my family is going to end well?"

"Let me guess, he told you?" she asked, ignoring his statements completely. She crossed her legs, tapping her foot to show that she felt like he was wasting her time. He didn't care. "I knew that he was way too big to be as smart as he seemed. Funny how size correlates to intelligence."

"Gabriel didn't tell me anything. He's a fucking professional," he informed her, stepping closer to where she sat in her chair. He bent down, hands on the armrests of her leather swivel chair, making sure she had nowhere to look by directly at him. "The man he sent me to, you know, your baby-daddy," Lucifer hid his smirk as understanding flashed in her eyes; shock, something close to betrayal.

"He sent you to do that?" she whispered, a rhetorical question. "He's a fucking idiot." She closed her eyes, leaning her head back in the chair, sighing and rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

"No," Lucifer argued, stepping back and away from her. He kept going until his back hit a wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Nowhere near calm, and only growing more worried now that Charlotte seemed to be less in-the-know than he anticipated. "He's not. We are," he iterated, point between her and himself. "We're the idiots here, Charlotte."

Charlotte regarded him for a moment, years of looking hard in court room engrained in her DNA. She had the best poker face. Lucifer could see hesitation, though, in the way her eyes were not as relaxed as usual; slightly wider, more open, looking for the threat. She wasn't one to be played, and while Gabriel sending Lucifer to do the agreed task was not something she was expecting, it didn't really change much for. She knew better than to let that confidence show, however. So she remained stoic, statuesque, contented.

"I know you're no fool, Charlotte," Lucifer started, once the silence became too thick. "But what the fuck?"

"Excuse me?" she gasped, looking incredulous over his audacity. "You act like I pretended to be a saint, Lucifer."

"Oh, no worries, I wasn't under that impression," he huffed, holding up a hand in her direction. "You made an unethical deal with a student in return for sexual favors. Pretty sure that's grounds for damnation."

"Yeah, and let's not forget that deal was for you to get closer to Decker to, what was it? Fuck her!" Her voice rose a few levels, and they were both getting angry. "This isn't a bigger dick contest for who's the worst person, but let's not play that either one of us was good from the start."

Lucifer held her gaze in forfeit. She was right. Neither one of them were good people. He can't be mad at her for being exactly who she is. For being like him. After another bout of silence, Lucifer finally broke the tension. "You know, it's fucked up that you're the only person I can talk about any of this to." Charlotte raised an eyebrow in understanding, reaching down into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulling out a bottle of clear liquor. Vodka.

Reluctantly, at first, Lucifer sat in front of her desk, sipping the top-shelf vodka and giving Charlotte the revised cliff-notes version of his family drama. He told her enough to make her understand his family was not to be trifled with, and he left out any details that could be used against him. Surprisingly, she listened. Nodding and humming at the right times, and he could see the gears working in her head, the mind of a defense attorney gathering information and building a case.

"So why did he send you to do my favor?" she asked, sipping her lipstick-stained tumbler, rolling the liquor around like the thoughts in her head. "What would be the point of that?"

"I'd say he's lazy, or to fuck with me, but he's not that fickle," Lucifer replied, sinking into the uncomfortable chair, enjoying the warmth of alcohol in his veins. Sobriety in situations like these was overrated.

"It was definitely purposeful," she continued to think aloud, her eyes squinting. Somehow, they managed to go from angry fuck-buddies to espionage analytics over three glasses of vodka. He was not complaining. "He had to have known you would find out there. That that fucking dick would open his goddamn mouth."

"He was rather pleasant, actually," Lucifer quipped, frowning and shrugging his shoulders. Charlotte obviously scoffed before concern etched over her features.

"You didn't hurt him, right? You weren't supposed to," she asked, staring at him like a lioness would to prey.

"No, of course not!" he defended, making a disgusted face. "It would have been like trying to kick a tiny kitten or something. I'm not an animal!"

She seemed pleased by his answer, leaning back into her chair once again. "Yeah, he really is quite unthreatening, isn't he?"

"Quite," Lucifer agreed, nodding his head and raising his eyebrows. He stared down into his almost dry cup, the barely-there sip looking as sad and pathetic as his existence at that point.

"I know we're not exactly on good terms right now," Charlotte started, returning the bottle to the bottom drawer after a few minutes of awkward silence had passed.

"Were we ever on good terms?" he asked sarcastically, laughing at that insinuation, because his tongue had been in almost every hole of that woman's body, and they were hardly amicable about it.

"I guess that only adds to my case," she stated, setting her glass down on the desk with purpose. "Care to burn off some of that frustration? I'm not expecting anyone for another half-hour."

Lucifer had no reaction for a few moments before he scoffed into his glass, draining the small sip and setting his glass down with a smirk in Charlotte's direction. "Are you mad, woman?" He smiled because he figured she just had to be joking. She just had to be being sarcastic.

"Don't use that English charm on me," she admonished, a smile still on her lips. She leaned forward and traced a finger along his wrist, resting on the edge of her desk. His eyes tracked her movements, but he didn't stop her. He wasn't sure how many times he had to explain about not being a good person. "You've never let your feelings get in the way of a good fuck."

He watched her wandering fingers, tracing over the skin on the top of his wrist, tickling the hairs there. Feeling more like a spider walking over his skin than a tempting offer. "Yeah, you let me do weird things to you with my dick, but that doesn't change what's happened." He kept his face playful, but leaned forward, putting a ferocity behind his eyes. "You tried to fuck me over, we're still waiting on the results of that, and there's no way for me to fuck _you_ over without bringing Chloe in as collateral damage."

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the door to her office suddenly opened. Both Charlotte and Lucifer were practiced in keeping their surprise contained, so they slowly slid from their position, but they were not able to sell the professional distance before Dan saw them. The detective went from startled to confused, and he did not hide it well. Charlotte gave him one of her bright, all-encompassing smiles while thoroughly ignoring Lucifer's presence with her body-language. Perfectly practiced. Charlotte Richards, everyone.

"Daniel!" she greeted warmly, red lips turned up, teeth glinting. "Always such a wonderful surprise." Charlotte gracefully stood from her chair and walked over to Dan, placing a hand on his shoulder before kissing him on the cheek.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Dan, _the douche_, said suspiciously, looking over at a lounging Lucifer in the chair in front of the desk.

"Oh, you didn't," Charlotte assured him, looping her arm through his and leading him in the direction of her desk. "Lucifer was just updating me on his TA position in his criminal investigations course." Dan nodded his head, but still narrowed his eyes in Lucifer's direction.

"Now that Ms. Richards is thoroughly updated, I'll be off," Lucifer said with a sigh, standing from his seat, holding Charlotte's gaze slightly longer than necessary.

"It seems that Ms. Decker has a very dedicated assistant," Charlotte added, unnecessarily, of course. Dan's eyebrows shot up his forehead a few inches while Lucifer clenched his jaw. Charlotte wore a delicate smirk on her crimson lips. "Thank you for stopping by. Feel free to contact me if you have any more questions."

"No doubt about that," Lucifer chimes, walking towards the door where Dan and Charlotte still stand. He makes eye-contact with Dan, can see the worry and confusion in his soul, smirks at him, and then walks out of the office without another glace to Charlotte. She should know. They aren't nearly done talking. They are done fucking, though. That was the only definite in his life at the moment.

Lucifer walks out of the building and back towards the parking garage with renewed purpose. He has information. Not much, but it's better than what he did have. Gabriel needed something from Charlotte. In exchange, she got a favor (which he happily, probably, fucked up), and Gabriel had no idea that he knew that. While Lucifer hadn't managed to find out what information Charlotte gave his brother, he was pretty sure it was something to do with Chloe. It had to be that, because Gabriel wouldn't have known about Chloe otherwise. Lucifer wasn't on social media, he was known for fucking anything and everything. Nothing specific. Only someone that knew Chloe would know about her job and their (could if even be called this?) relationship.

He decided to head home, get a shower, change clothes, hope that Maze was back, or there was, at least, information for him. He would text or call Chloe later. Once parked outside of his apartment building, he texted Gabriel's phone, telling him to call him about the job. Lucifer had just opened the door to his apartment when his phone rang, and he answered, with steady breath.

* * *

She had found him. What she had not been expecting was the unnatural silence a man of that size could possess. He caught her off guard. She didn't go down without a fight, and Gabriel was now the not-so-proud owner of a three inch slash across his face, from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth. If she didn't hate the fucking bastard, she would have found it hot. From her position chained to the metal radiator of a run-down brick warehouse (so fucking cliché it actually worked), she realized that she wasn't in a good spot. She had gone dark, electronics-wise, and no one, _no one_, would be able to locate her. Not unless Gabriel wanted them to.

Her temple ached from where Gabriel had butt-stroked her with his pistol, and her lip wasn't much better from where he had immediately punched her mouth as she fell to her knees. It was undignified; she hadn't been on her knees for a man in years. Not since Lucifer. That was over twelve hours ago. She could at least find pride in knowing she found him quickly. The being held hostage part was not part of the plan. She did have one-up on him though. He had no idea that she knew Lucifer. The only thing he knew was that she was a bounty hunter associated with the LAPD… she made sure to keep her bondsman license on her, for him to find, for this reason. Gabriel would have no idea that Lucifer might be looking for her. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to leave some indication of her intentions for him. He was a smart guy, he would figure it out. Maybe. Fuck.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, followed by the loud, steady footsteps she recognized. She heard the sound of a _ding_ from that direction, a notification on a phone, and then she was able to see the asshole, a.k.a. her captor, walking in her direction, not even acknowledging her presence. He was carrying a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. She could hear the jingling of his keys in the pocket of his slacks, his dark navy dress shirt had three of the top buttons open. He looked all the bit European high-class criminal he really was.

Suddenly his phone started ringing, and he looked mildly annoyed at it before putting the device up to his ear. His fucking monstrous hands dwarfed the phone, and she thought it was an iPhone. Again, if he were anyone else, she would probably be trying to suck one of his average-dick sized fingers into her mouth. "Ah, little brother! I hope you bring me good tidings of great joy!"

Maze knew he saw it the moment her body stiffened at his words. He glanced in her direction, just his eyes, his body still pointed slightly off-center from her. She could see the way his eyes ticked at her stiffness; his brain taking in that information, cataloguing it, analyzing. She had just made a grave mistake. Gabriel's eyes narrowed just slightly, one corner of his mouth twitching as he appeared to be listening to the other end of the phone. Maze simply relaxed her body as well as she could, with her arms chained above her head and all.

Gabriel sighed loudly, rubbing his hand across his face before speaking. "Yes, little brother, I know you can wax lyrical about peeling wallpaper, but all I care about is whether or not you got the job done." He listened for a few seconds longer before his lips fully turned up into a smile. Eyes almost glowing. "I knew that weasel of a man would divulge that kind of information like a fucking idiot." He listened a while longer, and Maze could have sworn she could hear Lucifer's voice through the phone. However, she wasn't sure if that was wishful thinking or not. "Well of course, little brother! Do you honestly think I would have sent you if I hadn't wanted you to find that out?"

The man turned to face her in that moment, not moving forward or back, just watching her the way someone would look at an interesting item in a curio. Maze was a master of apathy, and she knew she could appear indifferent to almost anything. Lucifer was her weakness, though. Making any movement, no matter how small, at the sound of his voice, by the way the man addressed the person on the phone as _little brother_, it gave her away. It was a rookie mistake, one that she shouldn't have made in front of someone keen on picking that behavior up.

"So what I'm hearing is that you failed." Gabriel said it as a statement, there was no question. Apparently Lucifer hadn't been successful with something. "No? So what would you call it?" He listened for a few minutes, nodding his head or rolling his eyes every few seconds. "Let me get this straight, you tell me you didn't _really_ complete one simple fucking task and you want my word I'll leave your hot teacher and her kid alone?" Again, Maze's body betrayed her and her eyes shot right up to Gabriel's. As expected, he was looking right at her, a smirk now on his lips. He knew. It wasn't her fault. She had a bit of a soft-spot for Chloe's daughter. She had only seen her in passing at the station the past few years, but the little girl was tenacious, a spitfire, and she reminded her of what she wished she would have been at that age. "It's quite rich you think you're in any position to be making requests."

Gabriel started to slowly step towards her. He was taking his time, smirking down at her, a heavy step every few seconds. Once he was in front of her, he knelt down on the balls of his feet, reaching out to touch her boot. He ran a finger along the edge of the sole, tapping lightly when he reached her instep. "I have to say, little brother," he started, still smirking and looking smug. "I was starting to doubt your choice in residence until I met the most intriguing creature the other day."

She wanted to pull her foot away, but that would only encourage him, so she let him touch her boot, giving him an unimpressed look. "Maybe you've met her? Tall, hot, leather?" He listened to the phone, looking annoyed by whatever response he received. "Come one, love, say hi," he instructed her, holding the phone in her general direction. Maze, being the sass queen she was, lifted her other foot and shoved the phone to the side. Gabriel looked impressed, chuckling to himself before bringing the device back up to his ear. "Hold on, brother, she's being a bit of a brat."

He brought his free hand up, gripping along her jaw so that his palm covered her chin. His thumb and forefinger were pressed into the hinge of her jaw, and without much pressure, she knew what he intended to do. He started to squeeze, a quick, building pain that forced her mouth open. She quietly whimpered until he grew impatient, squeezing tighter and tighter until she cried out softly, feeling the joint trying to pop out. He let go as soon as she made a sound loud enough to carry through the phone line. "There. Did you catch that? She's tough but she can make some real pretty noises when you try hard enough." Maze spit at him and that earned her a proper slap to the face. She could feel the pulsing heat on her cheek, but didn't let it show on her features.

There was distant shouting on the other end of the line, and all that did was make Gabriel smile even more. Fucking Lucifer, she thought, trying to not let the sting in her eyes form actual tears, he wasn't thinking rationally. He should have played off he sound, pretend to not know her, then at least Gabriel wouldn't have such obvious fucking knowledge of it. "What does this one mean to you, little brother? Are you fucking her, too? I sure would. She looks like she'd be a fucking beast in the sack."

The other end was silent, and she wondered if Lucifer was talking lowly or just not talking at all. Hopefully he just shut his fucking mouth. Part of her was relieved that his immediate reaction was so strong at the first hint of her being in trouble, but the other part, the professional badass part, wanted to ridicule him for showing weakness. It angered her that she wanted to scream out to him, beg him to help, even if that went against all of her independent-woman beliefs.

"I don't think I'll need to do anything to you after all, Lucifer," Gabriel lulled, his voice sounded deceptively soft. He reached out and ran a finger down the side of her face, gently, teasing kindness. "I think I'll have more fun playing with her," his finger traced over her swollen cheek, nail digging into the bruised skin. "She's got murder in her eyes," he said, almost admiring her in some sick way. "If there's one thing we can agree on, little brother, it's that we like a challenge," and with that final statement, he hung up, tossing the burner phone (because who still had a flip-phone in 2019 under the age of 65?) to the side.

She tried to kick her feet as he pulled a dagger from the pocket of his slacks, and she was certain he was about to stab her thigh when he expertly sliced through her leather pants on both legs, cutting up to the hip. He made enough cuts to pull the tattered material away, leaving her in her very tactical, practical (tac-prac, she had told Lucifer once) boyshorts. He eyed her hungrily, as if he were a starved man. He wasn't unattractive, but he looked like a man who had been denied for so long, and she was certain it was because he didn't 'do people' in the way Lucifer did. He didn't know how to make a connection. He just took what he fucking wanted. And he was about to do it again.

Maze had practice disassociating herself from events. Years of abuse from growing up in the system, and unwanted problem-child with more ignorant mothers and touchy fathers than one girl needed. What he was doing was survivable for her. The feel of his hands up her legs still made her sick, made her hate, made her realize why she enjoyed bringing in the 'bad guys'. She could leave her consciousness, go somewhere else, and even numb herself of the physical presence of forced penetration. She could make it all go away, and she knew it was fucked up that she had learned to do it. It saved her, though. Saved her sanity, her life, and it made her strong. In no way did she appreciate everything that had happened to her, but she refused to let all those people ruin her life.

Gabriel would just be another man on the page of reasons why she unleashed her rage on the unworthy and became a self-titled warrior for the wronged.

* * *

Lucifer held the phone to his ear long after the line had been dropped. Long after he had heard the muted cry from Maze. He knew that had to be hear. It was the only reason he hadn't heard from her. Even being made at him, she wouldn't let him worry, even if she would call it something along the lines of obsessing. He didn't even know where to begin. There was no way of tracking him. He had already applied some software to his phone, and every call or text from Gabriel came back with zero results. He was using burners, had multiple license plates, and stayed clear of most traffic and CCTV cameras. Much like at home, Gabriel was like the hand of god; a ghost with extreme reach and power.

Panic settled in his mind, making him feel cold and shaky, mind racing; his thoughts the rabbit, Gabriel the greyhound. To say fear gave him an out-of-body experience would be a bit of an understatement. It was more the feeling of his entire being pulled from the shell of flesh, floating above, painful, reaching out for something to ground him. His only option, the only thing to bring him back, was loading himself with artificial coping mechanisms, false comforts; the warm embrace of liquor, the soft kiss of benzodiazepines.

He partook in his less that savory past-time, even when he could hear Maze screaming at him to get it together. _Fucking get your shit together, Lucifer_! The fact that she wasn't there to scream at him made it worse, made everything worse. He wondered why he had to be such a shitty excuse of a person. Why did he have to be so fucking selfish? He should be out there, looking for Maze, going to see Chloe. Looking for his fucking brother. Yeah. That was a good idea.

He rummaged through his night stand by the bed, searching for that little baggie filled with the perfect upper to counteract the benzos when he needed it. Actually, he should probably take preventative measures so he didn't fucking crash in the middle of the street or something. Not even taking the time to make a neat, little line, he placed a pinch of coke on the back of his hand, sniffed, and rubbed the remnants from his finger on his gums. That would be much better. He grabbed his keys, sniffing as he left his apartment without even locking it.

Maze would go look for him. She'd tear apart California to find him. He would do the same for her, while still ensuring Chloe was okay. It was strange, to feel responsibility for two people. Two women he cared about deeply, in different but equally significant ways. He let those thoughts die off with the rest of his rationality. He was in no state to think about such important matters. He knew one of Maze's contacts personally. He was going to go pay him a visit, see what he could get from him. Sadly, it was his only lead.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Chloe hopped off her seat on the couch and answered the door. Before she could even say hi, Trixie ran past her mother and into her room, yelling something about needing to continue her preparations for her school's talent show. "Yes, hello, daughter, blood of my blood," Chloe exclaimed the reference, rolling her eyes as Trixie closed her bedroom door with gusto. Chloe heard chuckling from the doorway and turned to see Dan smiling that _she's your daughter_ smile. "So what's her talent going to be?" she asked the man, crossing her arms and smiling warmly. She was lucky to still have a decent relationship with her ex. It made co-parenting so much easier.

"She's deciding between tap-dancing blow-dart assassin and fire-breathing, juggling mermaid," she answered, eyes growing distant as if still deeply confused.

"And how does she plan to showcase either of those as talents?" Chloe asked, trying not to laugh. She loved her daughter. Her crazy, ambitious daughter. "At least she can never be mistaken for boring."

"No, definitely not," he agreed, smiling before his face fell flat and turned to anxious, nervous even. "Hey, so can we talk for a sec?"

"Sure, what's up?" she asked casually, moving over in the doorway to let him through into the house. He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled nervously as he entered her home, staying in the hallway by the stairs.

"So, I, um, heard you have a TA," he blurted, throwing a hand up in the air, motioning in her direction. She knew that move, it was the move he made when he really wasn't comfortable with what he was talking about.

Her eyebrows rose up her forehead before knitting back together as she crossed her arms, subconsciously defensive. "Um, yeah, a few weeks ago," she stated, trailing off. "Did Charlotte say something?" She figured she could be on a first-name basis with the woman if she was talking to Dan about her. Seriously, they went to a university function together, one that Chloe was at. She knew they were _something_ undefined, so why call her Ms. Richards to the guy (probably) sleeping with her and make it weird?

"Oh, no, no, no!" he stammered, holding up his hands like he was trying to talk down a jumper. "I would never get all up in your business like that. I just happened to meet him in her office," he offered before the worry fell from his face and was replaced with something else. "I mean, meet him again, you know, having interviewed him after he beat the shit outta someone behind a bar."

Chloe licked her lips, almost in disbelief at what Dan was clearly trying to insinuate here. Was he saying anything outright? No. Was he making sure she knew he thought it was weird? Hell yeah. "You ran into Lucifer in her office?" She tried to keep her voice flat, neutral, but that seemed a bit off to her, as well.

"Not just once," he corrected, this time crossing his own arms. "He's there a lot, I _just _found out about him being your TA yesterday."

She shrugged, legitimately shrugged in front of him, when she really wanted to ask what he meant about Lucifer being in her office 'a lot'. "I didn't really think it was important," she told him, raising an eyebrow expectantly, daring him to just say something stupid.

"It's just kind of funny," he started, scratching the back of his neck. She could tell, whatever he wanted to say was right on the tip of his tongue, he was just too chicken-shit to actually say it. It wasn't really a flaw, he was just a kind person at heart, but it really pissed her off to not be able to lose her shit on him. "How he just keeps getting closer and closer. And not just to you, let me tell ya," he finished, and she could see a flash of something, anger, maybe frustration?

"What the hell does that mean?" she questioned, keeping her voice low so that their daughter wouldn't hear them arguing. Yet again.

"I just think it's weird that things just keep bringing you guys together, and he's always meeting with Charlotte, and they just seem to be more friendly than professional." He stopped talking and started pacing. So that was the problem. She could play off that.

"So what you're saying is that you're getting jealous about Charlotte meeting with a student," Chloe iterated, tilting her head slightly as he huffed at her insinuation. "It's part of her job, Dan, especially a grad student who is working as a TA."

"They have interesting conversations," he added, thinking that might make her instantly hop on board his worry-train. "I overhear sometimes when I go to meet Charlotte. They talk about you, his family, some deal."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. If she were honest with herself, she would be wondering what the hell they were talking about, too. None of that sounded within the boundaries of normal administrator-student conversation. "What Lucifer discusses with another administrator is none of my business, and it's none of yours, either."

"Oh, come on, Chlo," he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "You can't tell me that doesn't seem strange? That feels off, doesn't it?"

"Dan, what they talk about isn't some case for you, or I, to solve," she told him, eyebrows going up her forehead. "I'm sure whatever it is pertains to his academics or his student visa." She wasn't entirely lying. The two of them could easily be talking about that, but he was right. It was weird. And if he were having problems with school, why wouldn't he talk to her about it?

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he agreed, sighing, seeming to cool off a little. "With her legal background, she might be able to explain the visa process, or something." Chloe nodded, but he seemed to be trying to convince himself of that. She could tell, he was threatened by Lucifer. She couldn't necessarily blame him. The guy was young and gorgeous, but surely Lucifer could see right through Charlotte's façade? He was smart, observant, but he also made a name for himself for fucking anything falling under decently attractive _homo sapien. _

"Exactly!" she assured him, starting to move towards the door, hoping that would send a subliminal message for him to please, kindly, get the fuck out. "Strictly professional, she's a great resource, you know that," she added, opening the door as he walked towards it out of muscle memory.

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes distant, as if in thought. "Sure, okay, I just thought you should know, in case they're looking at your course or something. Like an audit? I'm not sure," he added and she tried to not let the surprise of that show on her face. Had Dan just made an interesting point? Were Lucifer and Charlotte auditing her course? Would he do that? "Alright, see you later, Chloe, let me know if you guys need anything."

"Mhmm, will do," she said bluntly, trying to not have a total existential crisis in her doorway with her ex-husband to bear witness. After another awkward goodbye round, with weird waves, she shut the door, called out to Trixie, heard a muffled noise as a sign of life, and went and sat on her couch. Going through the information, it wasn't like she knew him long, and the entire process of him becoming her TA was sketchy, she knew that. Their entire relationship was definitely not encouraged by the university handbook. Sleeping with a student was definitely not how she saw her life going when she started teaching.

She waited at least an hour, sitting in silence, staring at the black screen of the television. Dan had sounded like a man who didn't like another guy being around his girlfriend. Valid. Okay, that happened. However, everything he said, the things he had overheard, the closeness (which, was strange, yes), as well as his casual comment of being potentially being audited. That would explain why they would be meeting frequently. To discuss her and her class. That could explain why, suddenly, she needed a TA and it had to be him. There was that… then there was the sex. What the fuck did that mean? They did have a genuine connection; her detective-brain couldn't argue out of that one. He seemed to enjoy himself, and he seemed to do so willingly. However, who knew if he was just a really good actor, or just that good a lay she couldn't even see the signs.

Finally, deciding that maybe she should just be a fucking adult and talk to him, she grabbed her phone and sent him a quick text. Nothing crazy, nothing to make her sound like some insane woman having a mid-life crisis or anything. He was busy. He worked, he went to school, he had exams going on. She didn't' expect to hear from him immediately. And she didn't. She didn't hear from him for over a day. Nothing, not a text, not a call, no unexpected booty-calls. His phone went straight to voicemail. Something felt off, and she was tempted to go to his apartment, as embarrassing as it was that she still remembered where he lived. She would go after work, when Trixie would be at her after school activities and then be on her way home with Dan.

What she was not expecting was to find a completely strung-out Lucifer, in his apartment, looking like he hadn't slept for days, drunk off his ass, and obviously snorting _something_, if the dried blood around his nostrils said anything. He was a mess, a complete and total mess. Worse than when he had shown up still drunk to class all those weeks ago. She hadn't even needed to knock, his apartment door was ajar, and he was sitting on his small sofa, legs bouncing, elbows on his knees, looking like someone had just told him he had seconds to diffuse a bomb that would wipe out the entire city. When he noticed her enter, he looked guilty, but he mostly looked like it was another thing added to a list of shit to do.

She almost walked out. She did. She didn't need to be a mother to a grown-ass man clearly in the middle of something she had no business dealing with. She would have walked out, if she hadn't seen the utter terror and worry in his eyes. The look of someone near drowning, trying to swim up, but not quite breaking the surface. "Lucifer," she said tentatively, approaching him slowly, like one would do a crazed animal.

"I don't know what else to do," he muttered, voice shaking from the motions of his legs. It was almost disturbing how his lower body could be almost vibrating while his upper body was completely still. "This wasn't supposed to happen here, none of this was, everything was supposed to be different." He started going off on his own tangent, getting more and more irritated by each word. Soon his words turned to mumbles, and she carefully sat down next to him on the couch. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out and put her hand on his wrist, squeezing lightly. He responded minutely, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but his legs still bouncing wildly. She had no idea how long they sat like that, but it took a while before he even seemed to register someone else was still there with him. Something was definitely wrong, and she wasn't going to leave him like that. She'd stay, and they would talk when he sobered enough to hold a conversation. He slowly seemed to realize that, as well, and he only looked more nervous as he came back to himself. That didn't make Chloe feel any better.

**A/N: okay guys... we're getting into the thick of it now. I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be, but there's definitely a few left, no worries. It's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. I promise, it will get better, though. Hope you enjoyed!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Okay... so the second to last chapter! WHAT?! Yep, I've finally got it all figured out... right here at the end. Haha. But that's me. I can't plan these things out, not far, anyway. It's a bit of a shorter chapter, but I feel the content is quite heavy, so it seemed right to end it where it does. I don't want to spoil anything for anyone, so if you feel you might be triggered by anything violent, please see the notes at the end for a trigger warning. Um... so yeah. This is something you'll just need to get through... **

* * *

"Lucifer, if you think I can leave you like this, you really are as fucked up as you seem," Chloe sighed, having spent the last couple hours convincing the man that she wasn't going anywhere. It had been a fucking rollercoaster of emotions for the both of them. Either he was mad, trying to use his anger to push her away, or horrifically said, eyes filling with tears that never spilled. He wouldn't tell her anything other than he couldn't find mine. Chloe was well aware of her importance to him, but she was worried by how upset he was. That coupled with the fact Ella had said Maze put in a leave of absence for an undetermined amount of time.

"I can assure you, I am," he groaned into his hands. He was sobering way too quickly for his liking, and his attempts to get a drink, besides water or coffee, had been thwarted by the stubborn, beautiful woman pacing in front of him. "You really shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here!"

"Just talk to me," she pleaded, rushing over to him and cupping his face in her hands. He allowed the contact for a moment, and she could feel him melt into the touch, desperately wanted. "I know something is going on with you, maybe I can help." With that, he looked like she had just punched him in the gut for the umpteenth time that evening. "What's going on, Lucifer?" she asked quietly as he pulled away from her grasp. He ran his hands through his hair, messing up the tresses, giving himself an endearing look.

He stared at her, eyes wide, red-lined, and watery. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words to say, rather, any words he could say. "Just a lot of things I can't explain right now," he finally uttered, voice tight and direct.

"Can't explain, or wont?" she asked, her tone hard and demanding. She watched the combination of heartache and frustration on his face, his eyes drooping, jaw clenching and teeth grinding. She waited for some kind of response for what felt like an eternity of silence and unreachable desires. Enough was enough. "You know what? Fine," she said, holding up her hands as if to push his dread away from her. "I can't help if you won't let me." She said the last bitterly as she turned to grab her bag and head towards his door. "Pull your shit together, then come talk to me."

Lucifer watched as she was taking the last steps towards the door, and he immediately bolted forward to stop her. He couldn't talk to her, tell her everything that was going on, but he desperately needed her presence to keep him sane. To keep him present. "No, Professor, please don't leave," he pleaded, grabbing onto her wrist a little harder than intended. "Please, I'm sorry, _please_ stay." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He could feel her sigh against his sternum, warm breath sinking past the material of his shirt and warming his cold heart.

She gave into him there, allowing his arms to circle her body and hold her close, almost squeezing too hard. She felt his chin on the top of her head before his lips, and then he was shifting so that he could kiss down the side of her head, towards her temple, and down to her cheek. Foregoing her lips completely, his mouth roughly moved around her jaw and ear, his longer abrasive on her skin as he frantically kissed her neck. "Lucifer," she called out softly, trying to grab his attention without breaking away from him. He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her completely, holding her still for him to start to kiss along her exposed collar bone, shoving fabric out of his way when he wanted to.

She sighed into his ministrations, a frustrated noise as a mixture of heady want and the need to stop it. His hands ran down to her hips, slipping under the hem of her shirt and quickly groping as much of her skin as possible. He moaned against the hollow of her throat before swathing his tongue on her skin. "Lucifer, Lucifer, wait," she tried again, this time slightly pushing at him, but his hold was strong, and he gave no hint to stopping what he was doing. She tried a few more times, but when he started dragging them through his apartment, almost on a warpath to his bed, she knew he wasn't in mind for subtle hints.

He let them fall to his bed and he quickly rolled over on top of her, slotting his thigh between her legs and grinding his hips against hers. She honestly tried not to moan, but she was only human, even as her hands plastered themselves against his chest, trying to bring some distance between them. "Lucifer, stop," she said, this time more emphasis behind her words. He growled against the soft skin of her throat, scraping his teeth along the thin skin, almost painfully.

"Please, I just want to forget for a while," he pleaded, adding more enthusiasm behind his actions, full-on rutting against her at that point. "I don't want to think about anything else going on besides what my cock feels like inside you." He licked a line along her jaw before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She rolled her eyes at the gracelessness of his words, but her body betrayed her, melting into his touch even more. Damn biology wanting the _very_ hard dick trying to fuck itself into her hip joint.

"Lucifer, no, we can't do this right now," she groaned, breath catching and making her words sound insincere. He chuckled darkly, and she knew he heard that little gasp. Another betrayal by her own fucking body. Scruff was burning along her neck and jaw, and he was making those wonderful noises he made when he was desperate, but they couldn't do this, not with everything going on in her mind, and she knew that if she let him fuck her, his dick would erase all her worries upon penetration. "Lucifer, seriously, get off!" she yelled, and her tone was assertive, borderline mean, but it was necessary. He slowly leaned away, looking down at her confused and hurt before rolling onto his back next to her, clearly agitated, obvious bulge in his pants.

"Why?" he asked, venom-laced words, sounding younger and whiney than he ever had. She remained on the bed, pulling he knees up to her chest in a way to try to comfort herself. She hated conflict, and while she wasn't sure this conversation would start one, she couldn't be certain that it wouldn't. She bit her lip as she looked over at him, spread out on his back, shirt lifted slightly to reveal the tops of his hips. She looked away before she said to hell with being an adult and jumped onto him with the vigor of a lioness pouncing on a kill.

"Well, A, when I got here you were completely and utterly fucked up," she started, holding up a finger and turning her attention back to him. "And, B," she cut herself off, readying he nerves to finish her sentence. "B, we need to talk about something, and I need you to be honest with me."

"Clearly not too fucked up, my dick still works," he muttered, shifting so he was leaning back on his elbows, just showcasing that wonderful physic that made her knees week and panties wet. When he saw that her expression remained serious, and she didn't find his joke amusing, he rolled his eyes, but gave her his full attention. "I've told you, Professor, I don't lie."

"Yeah, but I feel you keep certain details to yourself." It wasn't so much an accusation as it was a statement, but Lucifer, clearly, didn't seem to take it as such.

"Seriously, what have I done?" he asked, voice remaining low, but irritation was evident in his tone. "I've done nothing but work, school, and you." She couldn't stop herself from noticing the way the corners of his lips turned up, just slightly, at the little joke he made without realizing. Even in this state, he didn't take himself too seriously. Even though his words were genuine, there was a shift to his expression when he finished talking, as if he was considering whether or not his answer was right, but he didn't add to it.

"Anything of significance going on at school?" she asked, doing her best to sort of lead the conversation towards Charlotte without just blurting the issue out. She watched his brows knit together, but they softened too quickly for there to not be something there.

"Same bullshit, different day," he replied lightly, sighing deeply, his chest expanding and really testing the tensile strength of his shirt's fabric. He peered at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. An act that would typically be sexy if it weren't for the disbelief in her eyes. "What is it you're wanting to ask me, Professor? You should know, I don't like to play these games." His words came out harsh, sighing as he through an arm over his eyes.

Chloe was, actually, a little surprised by his response. He was bold for a man high as fuck and getting caught in what looked like a suspicious situation. "Why are you meeting with Charlotte so much?" she asked, and she noticed that his face didn't really change. His expression remained neutrally agitated, but if she could have seen his eyes, she would have known that they darkened immensely at the question. Something in them dimmed; any light left in him dying out like a suffocated flame.

"Oh, let me guess. _Daniel_ said something, didn't he?" She could hear the disdain in his voice, and she couldn't blame him for that. Lucifer and Daniel had had that sort of conflict you could see in a movie; two guys that didn't like each other simply for the fact that they were also a man.

"So it's true then? You won't deny it?" she asked quietly. She was hoping that he would have told her that Daniel had seen him once, maybe twice, and had acting obviously jealous about him being in close proximity to Charlotte. It maybe wouldn't have made her feel better, but, at the very least, she could play it off as a man feeling threatened by another for dumb-ass reasons.

"Yeah, I've had a few meetings with _Ms. Richards_," he started, emphasizing Charlotte's formal name to make a point. "It turns out that she was the proper admin to help me with a personal matter."

That was all he said; all he gave her. A personal matter. What did that mean? And what could the department chair for the criminal justice department, not even his degree-path department, do to assist him in personal matters? "Personal matters?"

Lucifer sighed again, this time it sounded more sad that irritated. He leaned up on his elbows, the definition of his abs slightly shading his shirt, making her core clench, but she was on a mission for answers, not there for cock.

"Yes. My estranged family of five years contacted the school, _desperately_ wanting the status of my well-being," he admitted, his features going hard and bitter, as if he were tasting something foul. "Apparently Ms. Richards is the one deemed fit to correspond with them."

"So, you meet with her regarding your family?" She asked the question, even though it sounded ridiculous. She could understand one meeting, sure, but that didn't answer why her name would be brought up at all. Unless Dan was embellishing the story a little.

"Well, we're not exactly estranged for joyous reasons," he remarked sarcastically, swallowing thickly and rolling his neck, releasing a few pops. "It's complicated," he offered when Chloe did nothing more than look at him expectantly.

"It's complicated," she repeated, letting the words hang in the air just as loudly as their breathing. It was eerily quiet, and she hated it. He hated it, too. There should be moaning, crying out, gasping, when they're in the same room together. Not this heavy, dramatic bullshit asphyxiating their needs.

"Yes. My relationship, or lack thereof, with my family is complicated. I left England five years ago, abandoned, left for fucking dead, and now they're trying to come back into my life and control me again!" He hadn't meant to raise his voice, and he hadn't meant to tell her all of that. It had slipped out with all the hurt and rage he felt regarding Charlotte, Gabriel, and the still-missing Maze.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, to ask him what the fuck he meant, but then she remembered his back, remembered the feel of the numerous scars, far too many to count, beneath her fingers when she clung to him. She could remember how they looked when she first saw them all those weeks ago; a stolen night at a pool. "Your back," she stated, and he acknowledged her words with a painfully aware smirk, raising his eyebrow as he nodded minutely. "Your family did that to you?" Her words were softer than they had been since she showed up at his apartment. He scoffed his response, not feeling the need to elaborate. "Why?" she asked, already knowing how fucking ridiculous the question was. Why would any family do that to someone? Why would anyone do that to someone at all? That was a question she had asked herself too many times on the job. The homicide job, that is.

"Back in England, my family is the largest crime syndicate in the country. No exaggeration," he offered, looking at her as if he had just discussed the weather. Numb to it, normalized to the wrongness. "Drugs, illegal contraband, money laundering, human trafficking, guns, political secretes… anything and everything you could think of, they have a hand in it." He watched as she let that sink in, her eyes going hard with focus. She understood what he meant, but she was just barely at the surface of a giant, criminal pool.

"It's my father's 'business', if you can call it that, and all of his children participate in their own way, under his 'guidance'." He finger-quoted the two words with obvious disgust. Chloe could see that, and she was beginning to grasp the parts of Lucifer that seemed to fit into that sort of living. "I dealt with a lot of it, he had me as an enforcer of sorts," he continued, eyes looking up and to the left as he recollected a past he wanted to forget. "Someone fucked up, I fucked them up, sort of thing. I think you understand."

"Yeah," she responded, knowing well exactly what he meant. "What happened?"

"I decided to not be such a good boy, tried to do my own thing, make my own decisions," he offered, stretching his neck as obvious tension started to form along his trapezius muscles. "I went outside of his _divine rule_, worked my own deals, had a little side thing going on. My father found out, and was not happy." He said it as if disappointment was any excuse for the torture he wore on his back.

"So your dad," she said, stopping from adding more to the statement, instead of making it a question.

"No, no, he'd never do that himself," Lucifer huffed, a small chuckle finishing off the astonished sound. "No, one of my brothers was the deliverer of punishment." He said the last bit with a flare of his hands, very much like the Lucifer she had first met.

"You haven't spoken to your family since then? Five years ago, you said?" He could hear the sympathy in her voice, and that made him sick. He didn't deserve it. If anything, he deserved for her to stab him, let him bleed slowly so that Maze could finish him off whenever (_if ever_, a thought he refused to let himself think of) she returned. She could shove her blade into his carotid, let him drain the remaining blood in him after Chloe stabbed him in the heart, leaving the blade to make the exsanguination slower.

Lucifer looked at her, opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it. He could easily say no, but that wouldn't be the complete truth, and it didn't seem that she would believe much of what he had to say. He couldn't lie, anyways. His eyes gave him away. "Not until a few days ago, after my brother contacted the school."

Chloe stared at him for a second, her brows knitted together as she processed the information. "The one who did that to you?"

"No," Lucifer sighed, seeming absolutely annoyed that he had more than one sibling he shared blood and history with. "Another, my eldest brother," he stated, rubbing at his eyes with her fingers. "I hail from a huge family; a mix of biological and adopted children. I'm one of the biological ones. Bully for me."

"So, after all this time, what are they wanting? Why contact the school?" she asked, her former profession coming out unintentionally. She was always pretty good when it came time to asking questions. Could always get people to open-up more than they realized.

"They couldn't find me directly," he told her, cracking the knuckles in his fingers loudly. "Maze, with her line of work, knows how to encrypt anything and everything, or has someone who can. My electronic footprint is minimal. How they found out I attend this University, I don't know."

She rolled that around in her head. Took in what he said… and, if she were honest, it sounded made up. And that's exactly why she believed him, up to that point. Usually, the stories that sounded so unbelievable turned out to be more truthful than the easier ones. "I still don't see what Charlotte, _Ms. Richards,_" she corrected herself, trying to keep the creeping disdain out of her voice. "Has to do with any of this."

Lucifer grimaced; actually grimaced at that admission. They were getting close to territory he _did not _want to get into with Chloe. Never. "Charlotte took control of the correspondence from my brother after the business office received it," he started, shifting slightly from his position on the bed. He sat up fully, sighing, as if readying himself to bolt out of the situation. "She said she could help me sate their interest in my whereabouts while still staying under their radar."

Chloe nodded along. It made sense, to a degree. There was still a chunk missing. Why would Charlotte just decide to help Lucifer? Why would she insert herself into family drama when nothing even needed to be done about it. Lucifer was a grown man. He didn't have to talk to his family if he didn't want to. It just didn't add up, and, perhaps, if she had been a different person, someone who had not been a successful homicide detective, she wouldn't have picked up on that gap so hard. "I just don't see a motive for it," she said plainly, watching as Lucifer rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. "_Why _would she just decide to take on your family relations?"

"Oh, hello, _Detective_. When did this become an interrogation?" He took a deep breath. This was a cross-roads; not quite leading into territory he wanted to avoid, but getting close, crossing into the land surrounding the place the be avoided. He had one option, and one option only: come clean, about a portion of the bullshit he had spun himself into. It would be believable, coming from a person like him, and he hoped that it would stop Chloe from questioning him further. "She did it because we had already been meeting."

Chloe narrowed her eyes, taking in his annoyed appearance, one that did not want to be talking about what they were talking about. "Meeting about what? Me?"

"Yes, actually," he answered, cocking an eyebrow as if he hadn't expected it to be that easy. He braved a glance up at her and saw she was staring at him expectantly. "I asked her to make me your TA." Her face remained the same, like the information hadn't sunk it; hadn't hit her yet. "To get closer to you."

At that point, Chloe was sure he was joking. There was no way he would just openly admit that in such a nonchalant manner. Both of her eyebrows went up her forehead as she realized who she was speaking to. Lucifer. Lucifer fucking Morningstar. Stupidly attractive, wildly sexual, uber-seductive, tall drink of whiskey. _Of course_ he would see that as _no big deal._ "So, you just waltzed your ass in there one day and asked her to make you my TA, and she, what? Agreed? Just like, 'sure thing, Lucifer'?" She watched as his face twisted into something disgusted, a scoff, as if what she was saying was ludicrous. As if what she was saying was fucking crazy. "No? Then what? Hm? Because you're telling me that you fucking worked something out to become my TA, get closer to me," she continued, anger rising in her stomach, the feelings of a rant just barely bubbling.

If she were being honest, she would yell and scream, tell him off, tell him that he lied, that he used _something_ to get what he wanted. In all honesty, he did something to get closer to her, and it fucking worked. They became pretty damn close. As close as people can get, physically. He had been inside her, more than one organ on his godforsaken body had been inside her. While she had been entirely accepting and wanting that attention, knowing how it manifested started to make bile rise In her throat.

"I never thought," he started, shaking his head as he stopped himself. He knew whatever he said would be misconstrued, blown out of proportion. Rightfully so. He could feel the panic rising in his chest. On top of everything else going on, fighting with Chloe, feeling close to losing her was not something he needed. It was not the fucking icing on his shit-cake. The problem was, Chloe knew how to ask the right questions, and Lucifer couldn't lie. It was his principle. The one thing no one else could control of his: his honesty. Let's face it, integrity wouldn't be the right word. He had little to none of that left.

"No? Never thought what? Never thought going in there, asking for something, and being told, 'yep, would you like another obscure favor?' would actually happen?" She asked, clearly a rhetorical question. Luckily, Lucifer was smart enough to pick up on that. His shoulders slumped forward even more, caving in on himself in order to try to protect his exposed nerves. Protect himself from being emotionally beaten raw. Everything piling up, soon, he would have no skin left to mar.

"I know it sounds – "

"It sounds fucking ridiculous, but you're you. So, what? What did she get out of it?" Chloe interrupted him, standing from where she sat next to him, moving to put herself directly in front of his slumped frame. "Seriously, what could she possibly…" as she crossed her arms, she trailed off. Her last word had come out nearly a whisper, her body closing off before her mind could truly process what she was about to say. Her sudden stop did not go unnoticed, and she wished, _prayed_, that he would look up and ask why she had stopped. But he didn't. Instead, he seemed to curly further in on himself, head falling even lower, hands flexing as they gripped opposite elbows. "What did she get out of it?"

The silence was the answer. Even in his worst moments, Lucifer _always_ had a witty retort. In that moment, he had nothing. He emanated shame in the furthered slump of his shoulders, the way his head dropped before lifting just enough for him to look at her in the eyes. At least he could manage that. He stares at her, in silence, and she can see his brown eyes glazing over, getting shiny and thicker, the lights reflecting off pooling tears. Even in the silence, she swore she could hear him begging, or maybe it was just the look he was giving her. It was an answer, but not enough of one.

"You slept with her," she said; a blanket statement, one to cover all the wrongs made with Charlotte. She watches as he struggles to swallow, and that struggle puts tears in her eyes. Not from sympathy, or pity, but from betrayal. The wetness in his eyes had yet to fall, and, honestly, it was a feat of gravity at that point. They should have fallen. She watched as his lips opened, fighting to form words, but she didn't care. She held up a hand, silencing him before he could speak. "How many times?" No answer. More tears form in brown and blue. "This whole time?"

She wasn't proud of how her voice broke with that last question, just as how she wasn't proud with the two tears falling down her cheeks as he bowed his head again, closing his eyes to hide. Even with all of it, she couldn't help but feel impressed. The man really never fucking lied. He just omitted what was necessary to keep his word and his dignity.

Chloe tightened the hold around her own body, sniffing to stop any more tears from falling. He didn't deserve them. "I have to go," she said softly, but sternly, turning around and going towards her bag back at his couch. Before she could take more than two steps, a large hand wrapped around her wrist, warm and strong, desperate. She didn't want to turn, but his other hand reached for her cheek, turning her face gently so he could see her.

"Chloe, no, please, it's not the same," he stammered, trying to pull her into him. She held her ground, and he didn't force it. "We're not the same. We're different, please," he continued to plead with her, but his last few words flipped a switch in her, and she went from hurt to pissed in all of a blink of an eye.

"I can't believe you just fucking said that." She ripped herself from his grip, despite his begging, and she grabbed her bag. His broken voice was distant in her consciousness, and all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears as she opened his door and slammed it behind her, leaving him behind her. Closed off, like he was until it suited him.

* * *

Make woke to the loud bang of a metal door opening and being slammed shut. She hadn't even realized she fell asleep. She had no idea for how long. All she knew was that she was still chained, still naked, thirsty, hungry, and violated. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth; it felt thick and dry, making it hard to swallow. Her head was throbbing, probably from dehydration, and the bright yellow light leaking in through the papered windows was strong enough to make her squint. She shifted as much as she could, feeling sore and used, and not in the way she usually liked. There was a difference.

Gabriel was in her sights soon after her startled awakening. He was whistling some tune she couldn't recognize, and he was carrying bags of fast food and bottles of water. He pretended to not notice her, or he was just making her wait, because that's what fucking sadists did. Eventually, he grabbed one of the bags and one bottle of water before heading towards Maze. It pissed her off that he was smiling at her, looking all the man that got laid instead of the man that raped a tied-down woman.

He cracked open the bottle of water, lifting the lip to her mouth and tilting. She wanted to refuse, but her body screamed for something to sate her thirst, so she drank. She managed a few gulps before he took the bottle away. He pretended to offer the bottle again, but snatched it away just as her lips parted. He had the audacity to laugh at her before sitting down in front of her, cross-legged, comfortable and unthreatened. If Maze had any modesty left, she would have been embarrassed of her complete lack of clothes and his full set.

"I can see why Lucifer kept you close," Gabriel stated, not directly at her, but in her direction. As if he were narrating his thoughts aloud to an audience. "So hot, so _tight_," he added, emphasizing the _t_ in a way similar to how Lucifer would. She hated hearing it come out of his mouth. It wasn't sexy, wasn't seductive. It lacked the charm Lucifer provided. He stared at her with an amused grin, daring her to try to say anything. She had nothing to say anyway. "The question is, what am I going to do with you once I've used you up? Hm? Once I make all those holes loose and useless, what am I going to do with you?"

She coughed, clearing her still-dry throat. "You'll need a bigger dick for that," she muttered bitterly, scowling at him as the grin fell from his face slowly. At first she wasn't sure what he was going to do, but the sharp back-handed slap across her mouth came fast, but expected. The flash of sharp warmth and the taste of iron indicated her lip had been split on her teeth. She sucked the wound, gathering the blood to spit off to the side, glaring at the man kneeling before her. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, and when she sneered and opened her mouth, he back-handed her on the other side of her mouth. The taste of liquid metal strong on her tongue. "That's what I fucking thought."

"You think you could fuck me loose? Please. Lucifer has fucked and hit me harder than that," Maze argued, unable to stop the hysterical chuckle forming in her chest. "You're pathetic." Maze wasn't sure what made her say it, wasn't sure why she stuck her neck out and practically begged him to slit her throat. She was a fighter, and she promised herself to fight to the end. To not let them win. It seemed her mind knew the outcome of the day before the rest of them.

With rage and spite in his eyes, he launched himself at her, grabbing her throat in one large hand and sliding between her thighs. He pushed her head against the metal radiator, squeezing tight enough to cut off her air and oxygen. She could feel him fumbling for his belt between her shaking legs, and there was no way in hell she would make it easy for him. Using all the strength she had, she crunched her core and pulled him up with her legs around his torso. His head hit the radiator with a loud bang, and she could see blood trickling down the side of his face. Remembering her skills, she slid her legs up and around his neck, putting him in a triangle choke. Without her arms, it wasn't as strong, but in a situation like this, adrenaline was the perfect ally. She would have been able to hold, had he not been able to reach into his pocket and grab a knife. She felt a punch to her side, a cold, oxymoronic sensation of searing ice before her skin felt flushed. Her body responded before her brain, and her legs tensed before relaxing slightly. With a ragged breath, Gabriel shoved her legs off of him, kneeling as he caught his breath, bloody knife in hand.

Maze looked down to see her torso stained in red, the source coming from a two-inch incision to her side. A steady, pulsing flow of blood escaped her and she stared at it in disbelief. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Before she could look up or say anything, Gabriel moved towards her, slowly, the winner of a battle coming to finish off the loser. The knife fell from his hands, a metallic sound ringing in the near-empty warehouse. She heard her own labored breathing, her pulse struggling, and Gabriel's gasps. He lifted his arms slowly, staring right into her eyes, savoring the moment as he wrapped his hands around her neck and pushed her head back against the radiator once again, increasing the pressure.

The large hands around her throat squeezed, closing off her air, narrowing the passage of blood to her brain. That was the thing with blood chokes; you were quick to lose consciousness, and only someone smart would know to continue to squeeze for at least six minutes after that. She let herself drift, for the first time ever, knowing escape wasn't possible. She couldn't even feel her limbs anymore. She let herself think back to the first time she let Lucifer take her, the first time she gave him control. The first man she had allowed in years. It was easy to pretend the weight above her was his, the hot breath over her skin belonging to him and not another. She wasn't naïve, and she wasn't weak. She knew they could have never been more than what they were, but it was still the deepest connection she had ever had. With a small smile on her face, tears spilling from her eyes, she thought of him; his face, hair, strong jaw, all of what made him Lucifer; their laughter filling the air after fucking themselves stupid.

That was the last thing she saw. Her last emotion was belonging. It was all someone like her _could_ ask for. Warm serenity before the cold dark.

* * *

**A/N: So if you're here from the beginning note, there's depiction of character death in second section of this chapter. If you don't think that's something you want to read, stop at "With rage and spite in his eyes..."**

**If you're reading this because you've finished the chapter... I'M SORRY! I know... I know... how could I, right? Just, try to trust me on this. Everything that happened is going to lead to that HEA that I promised a while back. I promise, it will get better! Please give me your thoughts, I love hearing them! *goes and hides***


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Okay guys... the second to last chapter! I decided to split it up since I had about two weeks of not being able to work on it at all. Didn't want to leave you guys hanging too long. Everything is wrapping up, or getting close to it! Thanks for sticking with me in this long journey. I've had a great time with this AU, and I can't wait to give you guys the conclusion! I'll go ahead and say it again, un-beta'd. There WILL be mistakes. I'm sure of it. **

**I've included some songs to go with certain parts of the chapter. Feel free to listen to them, but I'll have them linked on AO3 if you want to check it out there!**

**"The Hate Inside" (feat. Sam Tinnesz) / Produced by Tommee Profitt**

**"Cold" - Jorge Mendez (Sad Piano and Violin Instrumental)**

* * *

_He took a few deep, calming breaths. He hadn't expected for it to be that difficult, especially after he punched a hole in her side with stainless steel. Definitely piercing a lung. No doubt. The bubbles in the blood flowing from her mouth proved that much. Pushing away from the body, he sat down on the ground, avoiding the slowly growing pool of blood forming beneath it. Well, "her"; it had been a "her" less than half an hour ago. The disassociation from person to body was something Gabriel had learned a long time ago; back when killing had still made his stomach turn. As long as you referred to the aftermath of murder as "it", the process of disposal wasn't hard. It was a chore, a task to be completed. He already knew what he was going to do with this one. Absolutely nothing. Let someone else figure that out. _

_ It was still warm and fresh, wouldn't need any form of treatment to keep the rot away. Not that he planned on letting it sit unattended that long. He hoped it would go long enough for it to be grotesquely traumatizing to discover. It's one thing to find a fresh body, still looking human and pretty. It's another to find a decomposing body; alien-like, infested, bloated. He hoped it would be found before the bloating; it would be a shame for such a pretty thing to, quite literally, pop once prodded. _

_ He wiped his hands on his pants, blood already drying in the lines and crevices of his skin, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He gave it one last look of appreciation. It had been a great time to fuck with it. The strength in such a little body… it was almost a shame to snuff that out. Almost. Too bad he never really gave a fuck about that. There was nothing unique in the world. No one that didn't have a carbon-copy somewhere else. He had learned that, too, working for his family. His Father. Even he and his siblings were disposable, replaceable. That had already been proven with Lucifer. _

_ Gathering the rest of the shit he needed with him, he walked out of the warehouse and into the bright, sunny afternoon. The sunlight was interesting. He never really got that much of it. So far, he hadn't a clue what all the Americans boasted on about it. It was fucking hot. Blistering. He didn't plan on being in the sun that much longer. Back to the world of drab and dreary. Where the sun stayed hidden behind a blanket of clouds and gloom. Only coming out of its soothing covers to stave off the chill in the warmer months. _

_ Gabriel pressed the 1 key on the phone, followed by the call button. It rang four times before the woman answered in her natural what-the-fuck-do-you-want tone. "Charlotte, glad I've caught you at a good time," he said without any sincerity. It didn't really fucking matter if it was a good time for her or not. _

_ "Why are you calling me?" she said through the line, and he smiled at the disdain present in her voice. He gained a sick sense of pride from filling everyone he ever talked to with an overwhelming sense of dread and fear. _

_ "Well, that's rude," he chimed, smiling into the salty air. "Here I was about to give you some fantastic news!" He started walking slowly away from the warehouse, unconcerned with anyone seeing him. He knew the crews were at lunch. He always cased out his locations before committing any sort of crime in them. That was just common criminal knowledge. When she didn't speak after that, he sighed loudly, rolling his eyes to no one. "Fine. I was going to have you guess, but since you don't seem to want to play, I'll just have to tell you. I'm leaving the country. I'm done here."_

_ "Just like that?" she asked, and her worry was clear even through the not-so-great phone reception his burner had. "What did you do to Lucifer?" _

_ "Jesus, is he really that good?" Gabriel asked, his voice higher as if surprised. "Lucifer is fine. I hardly touched him. With my person, anyways," he continued, thinking back to the one time he beat the shit out of him. Well, the one time on this continent. "No, he's fine. I just came here to make him realize he wasn't going to get away with his petty bullshit anymore. I came, I taught; my job here is done." _

_ Charlotte was cut off by a loud horn coming from one of the ships at the harbor. Seemed lunch was over and it was time to start unloading more precious, capitalistic cargo from China or some shit. "So you just leave? Nothing else?" she asked, a small amount of hope bleeding into her words. He wished he could have seen her face. He loved when they looked hopeful. It was always fun to wipe that expression off with a .45 to the face. _

_ "We're settled," he stated flatly, hearing her audible sigh of relief. "Listen carefully, because my Father doesn't do this often. You never contact us again. You forget we fucking exist, we forget where you live. Deal?" He made sure he put just enough threat behind the words to get his point across, while not sounding like he didn't mean it. Surprisingly, unfortunately, he did. Father insisted. Gabriel figured he just wanted to be done with the bitch from some school in America. He had bigger fish to fry, as they say. She was nothing by a single-celled organism in his sea of sex, drugs, and money. "That understood?"_

_ "Yes," she replied quickly._

_ "Excellent. Well, it's been swell. Cheers!" he added, hanging up the phone, breaking it in half, and tossing it out into the dark, murky waters of the harbor. He smirked to himself; sometimes he surprised himself with how well he could set up a scene. He knew exactly when he needed to be outside. Exactly when the harbor crews finished lunch. And exactly when one of the ships would sound off a horn loud enough to be picked up over a grainy phone. He knew that Charlotte was smart enough to think that noise important. He also knew she would call Lucifer. _

_ It was all going to go according to plan. All he had to do was let a ship horn be heard in the conversation. The rest of Lucifer's punishment would fall into line accordingly. On its own. He didn't even have to be in this godforsaken state, let alone country! _

_ Maybe the sun wasn't so bad, after all. _

* * *

**[The Hate Inside]**

Lucifer wasn't sure how long it had been since she walked out the door, drying tears on her cheeks. He lost track of time once all the pills he took once she left kicked in. The whiskey hadn't helped either. He stopped drinking. If he was going to go anywhere in the next 12 hours, he would need to not be drunk _on top_ of high as fuck. He had tried to sleep, but self-loathing always made his skin crawl. Eating was worse. Staring off into the emptiness that was his life seemed to be the only thing his brain was willing to accept. Fucking punishing himself. He was the goddamned master of self-hatred and disgust. No matter how many people wished him dead, he wished it harder.

Distantly, as if it were underwater, he heard his phone ringing. In naïve panic, he rushed to find it, scrambling over to his bed to rifle through the sheets that still, somehow, smelled like her. Although it might have been in his head. Without checking the screen, he pressed the obnoxiously green button, almost dropping the device in the frenzy to get it up to his ear. "Yes, hello?" his voice came out slightly slurred, rushed, but at least the words were correct.

"Lucifer?" Charlotte's voice came out crisp on the other line. Disappointment flooded his dull senses, pulling the phone away to see the number clearly on the screen. "Lucifer, I need to talk to you."

"Why are you calling me?" he asked, sadness laced in his words, folding over and pressing his face into his hand, elbow propped on his knee.

"Gabriel called me yesterday," she said, tone softer, as if she could hear the fucked-up dread in his words. "I-I think I have something for you."

Lucifer perked at the mention of his brother. The sick part of him wanting to find him and beat his face in, the other part of him wanting to stay as far away from him as possible. "I'm listening," he responded reluctantly, after sighing heavily into the phone.

"He called, said he was leaving. Just like that," she started, and he could hear her swallow through the line. "I know I didn't talk to him very much, but, something seemed off. He seemed rushed," she finished, leaving silence through the phone.

Through the haze, Lucifer put what she said through the ringer. Thought of the options available, and even considered some highly unlikely. All things considered, the information warranted further questioning. "What do you mean 'he seemed off'?"

"Well, he said that you had learned your lesson, that he was done with you," she answered, and his blood ran cold. "It's just… from what he told me, and from what _you_ told me, that's not really his thing. He said he didn't really hurt you, but he did something else. He did enough."

Panic settled in, but he realized the timing didn't add up if he had gone after Chloe. She had been with him up until…whenever she left, but it wasn't yesterday. She was there mere hours before. No, it had to be something else. It took far longer than it should have to put some pieces together, but the drugs could be to blame for that. Maze.

"Do you have any idea where he was? Where he was staying?"

"He never told me. But, I heard a loud horn through the line. Sounded like a ship horn. Maybe even sea gulls. I'm not sure, but I'm positive it was a ship's horn." Lucifer cursed to himself, trying his best to narrow down the many docks and harbors that were along the Los Angeles coastline. Thinking back to how his brother usually handled any business like this, he would have needed a low-traffic area, a facility that wasn't checked, or, at least, not often. Suddenly, it dawned on him, sobering him up like an ice-bath would. Lucifer knew which shipyard it had to be. He had bought many a drug there from crews smuggling exotic blends from other countries and selling them to a select few. It had to be that one. The only one with an abandoned building far enough away from prying eyes. The only one that didn't have the same level of security as some of the large docks.

"Okay, thank you," he said into his phone before hanging up, not really concerned with whatever else Charlotte had to say at the moment. He knew where Maze was. At least, he _probably_ knew where Maze was. At the very least, he knew where she had probably been. Gabriel had to know that Charlotte would call him, so Lucifer expected a fight once he got to wherever Gabriel and Maze were stashed. That was fine. He'd fight him. He needed to. For himself and for Maze. He got her caught up in his own bullshit, when she had had enough of her own and was finally living her life for herself.

Sliding on his shoes and grabbing his keys, Lucifer ran down the stairs of his apartment building, out to his car. He got in and cranked it in a matter of seconds, peeling out of the parking spot recklessly as he headed towards the harbor he had in mind. The one with an abandoned warehouse towards the back, where the least traveled and operated ships and buildings were. A perfect spot to hide in plain sight without much risk of being found or bothered. A place filled with underpaid employees who really couldn't care less about one more guy walking around the place.

Parking at the dock, the smell of salt and sulfur filled his lungs. Dirty water made the sky almost grey, and the few birds circling overhead were, in fact, sea gulls. The atmosphere surrounding a place really did correlate to the goings-on in that area. It was dark, dank, everything in various states of wet and slimy. Leaving his car, he could see the very conspicuous cut-out in the chain-link fence. What was truly funny about it was that it was large enough that Lucifer barely had to duck to get through it. Yep. A place where the despicable thrived in their own grimy world. There were two ships docked, but he saw no crewman scurrying about. Either they were gone for the day, on a break, or still inside the ships. It worked in his favor; he wouldn't have to keep his head down to avoid eye contact, or accidentally run into anyone he knew.

The smell of filthy, oily ocean got stronger, signaling his approach towards the end of the dock, to where the old warehouse could be seen. It was just as disgusting as it had been. Windows broken, doors either locked or kicked-in. It looked all the cliché it was for criminal activity, yet, no one ever suspected a thing going on. If they did, they knew better than to say anything about it. A rank, sour smell filled the damp air in his nostrils, and he scrunched his nose trying to avoid smelling whatever pile of dead fish or fallen sea-bird could be causing it.

His footsteps echoed on the wet concrete and against the metal of the warehouse structure, the door pulled shut but unlocked. He could see the translucent plastic covering what was left of the windows on the sides of the building. Bits and pieces of torn, foggy sheeting distorting the view of whatever was inside. Lucifer reached out for the door, but his hand remained in the air, slightly shaking. He wasn't sure if they would be here; if Gabriel would have Maze here, or if he had her somewhere else. A small part of him held onto the hope that Maze wasn't with him. That she was off on another lead, just too mad at Lucifer to send word. It was the same small, atrophied part of him that held onto the hope that Chloe would ever speak to him again.

His lack of weapon was very apparent, and he cursed himself for walking into a potential lion's den without any means of defense other than his fists. They'd have to do, if it came down to it. He pushed open the door, wincing at the loud creak that followed the slow, rusted motion of the door. With the door open, wind was allowed to pass through a larger opening than the broken windows, and that putrid, acerbic smell became stronger. He cleared his throat before cautiously entering the building. It was even darker inside, the overcast sky ridding him of any helpful sunlight. He heard no movement, but that really didn't mean much when it came to either Gabriel or Maze.

The only sound was the faint drops of water falling into their respective condensation pools on the equally desolate ground. Eerie was the only way to describe it. Forsaken and decrepit. The air felt thicker, and it wasn't just the smell. He felt heavier as he walked, growing more confident that he was alone after all. He tried to look on the less bleak side, thinking if Gabriel and Maze had been here, there would be some hint to where they had gone. Knowing Maze, she would leave a proverbial trail of breadcrumbs for Lucifer to find. Lead him to her gingerbread prison, with a sadistic monster as her warden. Farther in, he saw a half-wall of exposed rebar and crumbled cement. Just passed that, he saw something out of place. A gleaming, black object. Leather, it looked, and the closer he got, he saw that it was a boot. A black, leather boot, with a chunky heel only one person would consider suitable for sleuthing.

**[Cold]**

He picked up the pace, turning his slow walk into an excited jog. The hopeful part of him seemed to jolt to life at the prospect of something that might lead him to answers. Something that might lead him to his friend, and ultimately, to his brother. To finish what he should have ensured years ago. Fighting the urge to call out, he rounded the crumbled wall and stopped in his tracks, knees immediately buckling, forcing him to fall harshly on shaking patellae. He felt like fire and ice were swimming in his veins, replacing his blood for freezing and burning liquid; his body breaking out in a cold sweat. Of all the things he expected, what he found, somehow, wasn't even on his radar. He never could have imagined it. Never could have even tried to.

Among the boot was its twin, a few fast food wrappers, torn and ripped articles of clothing, and a sticky, congealed pool of blood. It was larger and somehow smaller than one would expect. In the pool of rusty brown laid a body of a woman that was both familiar and far from the person it was. He felt himself inhale a much needed breath, albeit shaky, after moments of staring. The once beautiful warm, brown skin was mottled. A marbled mix of grey, yellow, and tan. He felt a sob heave through his lungs, eyes welling up as he scanned the still form in front of him. The obvious gash on her side, flys and larva already colonizing, if only just starting. Moving up, the darkness around the pulseless throat, still present even with every ounce of blood drained.

He fell forward, hands sliding into the thick, cold puddle; clumps sticking to his skin like dipping fingers into jam. Reaching her face was the hardest. It was what made it real. What made the body not just a body. What gave the corpse a face, a name, a life snuffed. Her once hard, dark eyes were now lifeless, dull, slightly protruding. Small amounts of dried, flaky blood surrounded her nose and corners of her mouth. Lips paler than cement were parted, a fly sneaking inside its new home. The only thing that looked right was her hair. Still a beautiful black mass on her head, unaffected by lack of life. The perfect dark halo for someone as brilliant and vicious as she was.

Tears were falling freely, landing in the blood, shiny drops over dull red. He allowed himself that much. Allowed the emotions to come, to take over him, sober him. Once the initial shock had worn off, fiery, wrathful rage filled him. He moved closer, knowingly destroying the scene, but uncaring. He reached out to touch her, but quickly pulled his hand back as if burned. He didn't deserve that bit of comfort. He didn't deserve to touch her after what he caused her. He beat his fist into the ground, cursing out into the air, letting it echo and fill his ears. A shout he hoped Gabriel could hear. He hoped it would chase him down, haunt him until Lucifer could put him in Hell for what he had done. He knew he would, the second he saw her; he knew he would end Gabriel, be his demise, obliterate him with a force only hate and pure pain could forge. Gabriel would die for what he had done to Maze, and Lucifer would make sure he suffered for it.

After finding a spare tarp and covering her naked, abused body, he sat down next to her, out of the blood pool. He wiped his hands on his pants, but the congealed blood hardly moved, sticking to him like a filthy reminder of his fault in her death. Red-handed, to blame. He pulled out his phone, dialed three numbers, and waited.

Turns out, saying you're sitting next to the body of LAPD's best bondswoman earns you a quick police response. It seemed within minutes of calling he could hear the sirens getting closer. Upon hearing them remain at the same volume before stopping altogether, he gave Maze one last glance. A consolatory view of the tarp he covered her with. Blocking off the world and letting her hide like she wanted. He got up and stepped to the side, in plain view of the door he had come through, and knelt down, lacing his fingers together behind his head. The ultimate stance of surrender, submission. The _just take me, I won't fight_ position he never took willingly.

Surprisingly, the first two people to burst through the door were familiar. Detective Espinoza came in, gun drawn, followed by the small-but-mighty Ella, duffle bag slung on her shoulder. She started to job when she saw Lucifer, but Dan grabbed her arm with his free hand, keeping her behind him as they approached the crouched man on the ground. Lucifer could see the devastation already on Ella's face before she saw the tarp, the less-than-obvious outline of a body beneath it, and all the blood. She instantly started crying, the bag dropping from her shoulder as she squat down, her body just barely hovering above the ground.

Dan kept his eyes and gun trained on Lucifer, clearly wanting to look up to see what Ella was falling apart over. "I covered her up," Lucifer croaked out, a slight tremble in his voice. "I, I just didn't want everyone to see her like that."

"Shut up," Dan ordered, although his voice was quiet and soft. He watched as Ella finally fell the last two inches to the ground, sitting, her knees drawn up, quivering hand over her mouth. "Don't fucking move," Dan gritted out, shaking his gun for effect before slowly walking towards the body, keeping his gun aimed at Lucifer, although slightly lowered. He shuffled over to the top of the tarp, where a pair of discolored hands were exposed, still chained to the rusted radiator. With his free hand, he lifted the tarp enough to see the face of the victim under it. _"Shit!_" he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut as Ella let out a loud sob at the clear identification. Lucifer felt new, hot tears trickle down his cheeks, but he held his position, glancing over to Ella, who was looking at him with sad eyes. He broke down again at that, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, slumping even lower but keeping his hands behind his head.

More officers started pouring into the building, including the county coroner and medical examiner. Ella managed to compose herself enough to take the pictures needed of Maze's body, uncovered, as quickly as possible, throwing a medical sheet over her delicately to give the woman the dignity she wasn't afforded in death. Once Maze's body could be left alone for a bit, Ella started cataloguing the articles of clothing lying around, taking pictures of those, sniffling between flashes, sparing quick glances in Lucifer's direction.

Dan was off to the side, on his cell phone, gun holstered, and wiping a hand down his face. He was starting at Lucifer and the two officers standing next to him. He had been detained, sticky hands cuffed behind his back, still kneeling. The two uniformed officers had assured him that he wasn't under arrest yet, just being held until the situation became clearer. Ella walked towards him after bagging all the evidence and took pictures of his hands and the soles of his shoes, just to corroborate his story of finding the body.

Before walking away, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly as she bent down to whisper in his ear. "I'll call Chloe," she said, quickly walking off, leaving him open-mouthed, wanting to stop her but finding it nearly impossible. What would he say? Tell her no, because he had fucked up and Chloe probably hated him? The small woman was gone before he could pretend to formulate a response, and when the coroner's crew brought it a stretcher, Dan came by and grabbed him by the arm, helping him up and walking him out of the building. Lucifer looked over his shoulder the entire time, watching as two gangly boys barely out of their teens lifted the covered corpse of his best friend onto a body-bag lined stretcher, zipping her away, encased in black, and alone.

Dan took Lucifer to his unmarked car, undoing the cuffs before pressing him into the back seat and slamming the door. In the too-cramped space, Lucifer watched as Dan said a few curt words to a uniformed office, glancing at Lucifer through the back window. He patted the officer on the back before sliding into the drivers' seat and cranking the ignition. All of the electronics in the car beeped on, and they just sat there, in silence, for a few long, drawn-out moments.

"I have to take you down to the station for questioning," Dan said, finally breaking the silence. He looked back at Lucifer through the rearview mirror; eyes hard and concerned. "How long have you known Maze?"

"Five years," Lucifer answered, watching his own knee bounce from anxious energy. "She was the first person I met here," he reminisced, wishing he could smile at the memory, but the pain was still too fresh. "We live on the same floor in an apartment complex downtown."

Dan nodded in acknowledgement, moving to put the car in drive, but stopped just short of shifting gears. "Once we get to the station, we'll ask for an alibi. If you can provide one that we can corroborate, great. But that won't answer how or why Maze got here, or how you found her. Understand?"

"Yeah," Lucifer responded, keeping his eyes down, avoiding looking at the man in front of him. Dan seemed to watch him for a few more seconds before sighing, putting the car in gear, and driving off towards the station.

Ella watched Dan and Lucifer pull away from the scene as she loaded the rest of the collected evidence into the CSU van, along with her duffle and camera. She would have to take a DNA sample from Lucifer at the station, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to go ahead and let Chloe know what was going on. Stepping away from the van and the rest of the CSI team, she pulled out her phone and selected Chloe's contact icon. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say, and she was lost for words as soon as Chloe answered.

"Ella? What's going on?" Chloe asked through the phone, no hint of concern in her voice. She didn't know to feel any yet.

"Um, I think you need to come down to the station," the smaller woman suggested, clearing her throat as she kept herself from crying again. "Mazikeen Smith's body was just discovered at Watchorn Basin," she added, voice hitching.

"What?" Chloe whispered, and Ella could just imagine the pure shock on her face. "Her body?" Chloe's voice had gone up a few octaves, sounded much quieter, more reserved; devastated.

"Yeah," Ella replied shakily, tears forming in her eyes. "Anyways, um, Lucifer called it in. Dan is taking him to the station now, so I thought you should know." She didn't hear anything through the line for a while, and she checked to make sure the call hadn't dropped, but then Chloe's quiet voice came through the speaker.

"I'll be right there, okay?" Ella could hear keys rattling in the background, so she told Chloe she would see her soon and hung up, walking back towards the van. She got in once the rest of the team completed the tasks and they made their way back to the station to start sorting and collecting more evidence from everything they could find.

Chloe did her best to walk into the station as calmly as possible. Everyone there would be on edge. Maze hadn't been a cop, but she worked with them, and that made her one of them. And no one hurt one of them without the wrath of the entire force knocking at their door. There was whispering, a lot of shuffling about, and the distinct air of _this is bad_ suffocating the mood of the station. Maze hadn't been the most likeable person, but she had done her job well, never declined an offer, and knew exactly when pushing the boundaries of legality were necessary and appreciated. Chloe hadn't had very much interaction with her, but her name was well-known and respected. Her absence would be felt for a long time to come.

She made her way through the moderately crowded precinct towards the lab, where she expected to find Ella. She hadn't expected a call like the one she received, and she wasn't sure why Ella told her to come down, but she sounded distraught, rightfully so. It was one thing to work the crime scene of a stranger, photographing the results of the worst parts of humanity, collecting the castaway sins left there. It was another to have to see someone you knew, distended and too still, left to rot, thrown out with less care than household trash.

Sure enough, hiding away in the dark of her lab, swollen eyes circled by large glasses, and cataloguing the remnants of clothing, was a crouching Ella. When the small woman noticed Chloe coming through the door, she carefully set aside the evidence, tearing off her nitrile gloves before hurrying to hug Chloe. She didn't cry, just took in a shaky breath, squeezing her friend tightly. Recent loss did that to people; made them try to cling to all they held dear, fresh with the notion that they could disappear in an instant.

"What happened?" Chloe asked, breaking the silence once Ella pulled away, smoothing imaginary stray hairs back into her ponytail.

"Um, Maze," Ella started, clearing her throat, obviously still finding it difficult to talk about. The image of her chained, beaten, and bled-out body still picture-perfect in her mind. "Her body was found in an abandoned warehouse in Watchorn Basin a few hours ago."

Chloe thought it over for a second. She had become excellent with compartmentalizing problematic situations. She would mourn Maze later. First, she needed to feed her long-starved detective senses. "Is this related to her putting in indefinite leave? What you told me about at my place?"

"We're not sure, but seems likely," Ella shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked nervous for a second, avoiding Chloe's gaze as she chewed her bottom lip raw.

"Ella, what is it?" Chloe asked, knowing her well enough to see the discomfort, the uncertainty.

"Lucifer called it in," she stated softly, taking in a deep, relieving breath, tension visibly releasing. "He found the body." Ella just stared at Chloe, eyes wide and almost accusatory. Not that she thought Chloe had anything to do with this, but that she had a potential suspect in her home. Very wet, very naked. Chloe's mouth parted as she processed the information. The _implication_ of that information.

"What did the ME put for time of death?" she asked, staring at Ella as her friend gave her the look of _this doesn't look good_.

"Chloe," Ella drawled, pleading for her to not go down that line of though. Chloe just stared at her; expression hard, sturdy, not backing down. With a sigh, Ella complied and gave an answer. "Within the last 48 hours."

"He has an alibi," Chloe offered, nodding her head, going over the last two days in her head. Most of it had been with him. There were times unaccounted for, but what was a little perjury to the list of her current sins. Ella opened her mouth to say something, a warning, but Chloe held up her hand, effectively silencing her. "Where is he?"

"Dan has him in an interrogation room," she answered, almost regretfully. "He hasn't been arrested or Mirandized. I don't think he's saying much."

Chloe reached for the door, but stopped herself, turning back to Ella with a wistful smile on her lips. "Thank you for calling me."

"He looks destroyed, Chlo," Ella whispered, turning her gaze towards her shoes before turning to go back to her work. The quicker she organized and submitted everything to third-party labs, the quicker the station could begin their investigation. Chloe nodded in acknowledgment and quietly slipped back out into the bullpen. No one paid her any attention, as if it wasn't strange a civilian walking through the place. Like she still belonged there. That panged in her chest in a way she hadn't felt since the weeks she first left, but it wasn't the time for nostalgia.

She checked the lights above the two interrogation rooms and decided to risk knocking on the one door that had the right light ignited above it. She heard the muffled voice suddenly stop, the barely audible squeak of a chair, and then the door opened. Dan looked annoyed before shocked to see Chloe standing at the door. She wasn't able to peek inside to see Lucifer before Dan pulled the door shut behind him, turning to face her with his arms folded across his chest.

"I guess Ella told you what happened?" he asked, not upset, just exhausted. He figured Ella would call her with the news anyway. Chloe nodded, her eyebrows pinching together in a wince. "And I take it you know who's in there." A statement, no question of the answer.

"Has he said anything?" she asked, voice quiet, knowing full and well that she shouldn't be asking, and Dan certainly shouldn't be telling her anything. Luckily, Dan had never been entirely on the moral high ground of ethical behavior.

He sighed loudly, his hands going to his hips in a huff. "No. He won't say how he found her, won't say if he knows anything about who could have done this to her, not that it matters. Plenty of shitty people hate her for putting them away," he digressed, lifting his arms to rub at his temples. "It's not looking good for him."

"Has he provided an alibi for the last 48 hours?" Dan looked at her in disbelief, like he couldn't believe she knew the time of death, but then realization hit and he rolled his eyes. Ella the forever loyal. He shook his head, and it was her time to help Lucifer. To damn herself in her ex-husband's eyes. "I can provide an alibi for him." Dan blinked, a beat to a pause in any sound between them.

"But you didn't have class," he started, his words trailing off as Chloe closed her eyes and lowered her head. She shouldn't feel bad for it, but when Dan looked at her as if she truly disappointed him, it was kind of had to not feel _something_. "You can provide an alibi for him for the past 48 hours?" Again, another statement, not a question.

"Yes," she said, nodding, gritting her teeth. She could take a judgmental look, but she wasn't going to be bitched out in her former place of work over something like this, especially with the death of a seemingly innocent woman needing to be investigated.

"_Fuck,_" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head again, as if he could rewind and redo the last minute of his life. "You can make a statement, and then he can leave. I don't have enough to hold him." Chloe nodded and watched as Dan walked off towards his desk to retrieve the proper statement forms. She would have to provide an official statement and sign in. It would be recorded, their secret; written in her own hand for the world to see and judge. He brought the form over to her, let her write out a quick account of the last couple days, and watched her sign it, again, in disbelief that she made it official. He took the pages with a curt grin and disappeared into the interrogation room once again. Lucifer would need to read the account and make any corrections, if he deemed appropriate to do so. He would have to sign it as well. Like a contract. _Hey, we made poor ethical choices together, and we liked it_.

Dan pulled him out of the room about ten minutes later, nearly shoving him to move. Lucifer was stiff, like a giant mannequin that needed rearranging. He looked up and made eye contact with Chloe. Ella was right. He looked absolutely devastated. His eyes were red from grief, his hands looked dirty, like he had spread filth on them and tried to clean them with a wet-wipe. He just gaped at Chloe. There was so much that needed to be said between them, but Chloe wasn't a monster. She could see he needed something, he needed someone to care, to hold him. Whatever the hell they were needed to be put on hold. What needed to be done was two humans finding comfort in one another. She could do that. No matter her feelings, no matter the betrayal that tainted the taste in her mouth at the sight of him, she could be there for him. They could talk later. They _would_ talk later. She had questions, and she hoped to fucking _god_ he had answers for them. Dan made a final push to his shoulder in the direction of Chloe before walking off. Lucifer just stumbled towards her, and they walked out together in pregnant silence towards her car.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Okay... so this "finale" got to be longer than I had even imagined. There's this chapter and then another. No matter how long the next one is, I won't be splitting it. My dear friend Luni reminded me that something digestible was better, and I agreed. So here's a more digestible chapter for you! Enjoy!**

**There are song titles in bold and brackets in the text. I'll list the song and who it's by so you can try to find them on YouTube. It's linked on AO3 if you want to read it over there :) Enjoy!**

1\. Carousel by Failure Anthem

2\. Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins cover feat. Sam Tinnesz / Produced by Tommee Profitt

3\. You Belong to Me by Cat Pierce

4\. Glass Heart (feat. Sam Tinnesz) / Produced by Tommee Profitt

5\. Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

6\. Paradise Lost by Hollywood Undead

* * *

_Through the two-way glass in the observation room, Dan watched the other man skeptically, curiously. When Dispatch had given him the details, saying "found possible remains of Smith, Mazikeen", he had jumped right on it. He had told Ella, and she had refused to stay behind. Ella was one of the few that seemed to interest the bondswoman, and she would often talk with her after dropping off her latest bounty. Ella in all her good-heartedness and love for all, had seen her as a friend. Identifying her body and giving her the respect she deserved was the least she could do, she had pleaded. _

_ He hadn't expected what he found. He surely hadn't expected to see him there. Alas, when he had opened the doors and saw a man on his knees, hands behind his head, he had been stunned. He typically had to ask for that sort of compliance, but as he stepped closer, he recognized him immediately. The use smug cockiness was wiped from his features and replaced with complete dread. Lucifer Morningstar, the man who had somehow wiggled his way into the lives of the women in his life, knelt before him, and Dan quickly trained his gun on him. _

_ Turning back the tarp had felt like a punch in the gut. No, he hadn't been very friendly with her, but they were always professional, and Dan had immediately respected Maze from the moment she started bringing people in for them. She took absolutely no shit, and she was able to back up her tough demeanor, which, to be honest, was really sexy. She was fierce and beautiful, and the world would be worse without her, that's for sure. _

_ Lucifer didn't say much in the car on the way to the station. He said nothing when they brought him to an interrogation room. He remained silent as Ella came in and wiped down his hands and anywhere else blood had been, bagging up the rags to put with evidence. She also took a DNA sample by cheek swab, because he had admitted to touching the bodily, if only briefly. Through the glass, he had watched Ella place a small, gloved hand over his, and he did nothing but close his eyes to the contact. She left, and Dan let him sit there for a while. Let it soak in. That usually gave people time to collect themselves. Realize their situation, and either panic or relax with that information. Lucifer appeared to be neither. He just looked broken. Something in Dan wanted to lash out, to question him cruelly, but he wasn't sure if he really deserved it. _

_ Dan went into the interrogation room with nothing but a small notebook. They didn't have a file. They hadn't known anything was suspect about Maze's leave of absence. It was a fresh case, starting with a body and nothing else. He sat in the chair opposite from Lucifer, placed his notebook and pen down on the steel table and stared. Lucifer remained still and silent. It was not his first rodeo. It was not the first time he had been on this side of an interrogation table, and he was not intimidated by Dan at all. _

_ "Remember, you're not under arrest right now, so anything you say is admissible in court," Dan stated, hoping that refreshing his memory would get him _something_ for the case. "You understand?"_

_ "Yeah," Lucifer replied, still not looking up, just staring at the corner of the table like it had killed his friend. He gave off the illusion of collected calmness, but his knee bouncing, just a barely noticeable movement, gave away the energy build-up in his body. _

_ Dan stayed quiet for a few moments, deciding how he was going to approach this. From the brief interactions h had with Lucifer, he knew him to be challenging, a fucking asshole, but intelligent. He could play it safely, ask him basic questions, or he could go off the books, ask better questions that might not be the most professional. "Look, I'm not gonna sugar-coat this for you, we have nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing," he started, waiting for a reaction he was never going to get. "Can you tell me _anything_ that could steer us in the direction to what might have happened?" Dan looked at him, not quite pleading, but sincere. "I mean, anything. The only thing we have to go on is the leave of absence she put in a couple days ago." _

_ Lucifer licked his lips, taking a deep breath in and releasing it through his mouth. He swallowed thickly but remained silent. Stoic. Dan picked up his pen and started tapping it on the blank page of the notebook. Showing, bringing attention to the fact that there was nothing to go by besides a corpse. _

_ "Look man," and Lucifer's eyes shot up, stared at Dan for a moment, his jaw ticking to one side, clenching like he wanted to say something and had bit his tongue. "Look," Dan restarted, holding up his hand in reassurance that he understood. "Maze was secretive, she never listed any family, and we have no way of knowing what was going on in her personal or professional life," he continued, trying to reach out, just trying to get anything. "I liked her, she was damn great at her job, and I'm just curious as to how you came across her body."_

_ "She's my friend," Lucifer offered, a sad chuckle escaping his chest before correcting himself. "She _was_ my friend. So you don't need to tell me about her."_

_ "Great," Dan exclaimed, bringing both hands to the top of the table. "So had she said anything to you about a recent job? A tough bounty? An angry boyfriend?"_

_ "No, none of that," Lucifer spat, screwing his face up in disgust. He pinched the bridge of his nose to help stave off an impending headache. _

_ "How does a very capable woman end up like that after putting in a leave of absence, with her best friend having no fucking clue about anything?" Dan argue, hoping he could tap into that underlying anger the other man seemed to have. _

_ "I don't know," Lucifer replied softly, hands falling down to the tops of his thighs in defeat. There was no explaining it. Plain and simple. He couldn't give anything without bringing up his family, and he needed the head-start of the few days to few weeks it would take to identify the other male DNA on her body. Even when they did, they wouldn't have a name, just a familial connection to Lucifer Morningstar. _

_ "Help me out here! Something! Anything" Dan pleaded, eyes wide and eyebrows up, waiting for the answers to spill, for the information to flow out. Lucifer just stared at him, swallowing thickly as his eyes grew shiny and tears welled up at the rims of his lower lids. Nothing spilled; not from his lips nor his tongue. Dan was about to say something else when a knock at the door interrupted him, and he slowly got up from his chair, tossing the pen on the table, right by the still-blank notebook. _

_ Once Lucifer was alone in the room, he let his eyes close and the few tears fall freely. With a shuddering breath, he wiped away the wetness from his cheeks, sniffing loudly. The worst part was that he couldn't offer any help. He couldn't tell them what happened to her, couldn't tell them who ended her life so brutally. He knew the answers, and he would never get anywhere if he gave them up. He wanted nothing more than to give Maze the justice she deserved, unfortunately that justice came across an ocean with another murder; nothing solid to produce for the papers, nothing to give her name peace. _

_ Minutes and minutes went by, but he wasn't sure how many. No clock. Very admirable tactic for interrogation rooms. No way to tell time, no way to say how long they've actually been in there. Lucifer has used that form of sensation deprivation before, both for criminal and bedroom activities. He shifted in his seat, both chair and bones creaking from immobility. He swallowed again and realized how dry his mouth and throat were. He really wished for one of those annoyingly tiny complimentary water bottles that authorities handed out to those in distress. Apparently, Lucifer wasn't a distressed individual in custody. That's what he got for having the inability to let others see his emotions. He just looked cold and detached, undeserving of refreshment and comfort. _

_ After another stretch of time, Dan re-entered the room, holding a few sheets of paper with handwriting on it. His expression was one of revulsion and contempt. Lucifer would have asked what the hell he could have done to piss in his pudding if his day had not already been so gutting. Before sitting, Dan slid the papers over to Lucifer haphazardly, nodding down at them for Lucifer to pick up and read. He grabbed the pages, and instantly recognized the handwriting. His gaze shot back up to Dan, who had just started sitting down in his seat slowly, incredulity written in his eyes. _

_ "What's this?" Lucifer asked, halfway between desperately wanting to read the pages and being too terrified to look down. _

_ Dan had the fucking gall to almost scoff, but he reigned it in. Chloe wasn't his wife anymore. And he definitely wasn't her keeper. "It's an alibi," he answered flatly, nodding again towards the pages. Ella called Chloe, and she provided an official statement for your alibi. I just need you to read and corroborate it, and sign, then you can leave." He flicked the pen towards Lucifer, letting some of the disgust towards him seep out. Dan read the statement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what it meant. _

_ Lucifer blinked a few times before looking down and reading the report written in delicate, flowing cursive. It was written very plainly, without must detail and just enough description to provide reasonable proof. It said they had spent the last 48 hours together, which wasn't entirely true. There were significant portions of time they were not together, but it seemed Chloe felt it necessary to write it as such. He had a sinking feeling that maybe she feared he might have something to do with the crime. Well, he did, but not in the way he hoped she didn't think he was. _

_ "If there's anything that needs correcting, feel free to write it in the margins and add your initials below," Dan said, almost hopeful for a little less time they seemed to spend together. Lucifer shook his head very pointedly at Dan, picking up the pen without looking at it and clicking the point out. He looked down at the last page, to the blank line below Chloe's signature, and added his own. Signing their confession; their joined admittance. He clicked the pen's point back in and slid the statement back over to Dan. He sniffed loudly, his annoyance apparent as he motioned for Lucifer to get up. "Alright, let's go," he said quietly, turning away from Lucifer and walking towards the door. He waited for the taller man to get close before opening it and basically shoving him out. It was brighter out of the interrogation room than Lucifer expected, but her form was unmistakable. His breath caught with the uncertainty of what was to come next._

* * *

**[Carousel]**

It was suffocating the moment she had entered the car, gripping the steering wheel until her joints ached as he slowly slid himself into the passenger's seat, staring out through the windshield. She wanted to say something, but what could she say? His only friend was dead. The only person he was close to was gone, and by the looks of Ella and Dan, she did not leave the world peacefully. What could she say that would help at all? The last time she saw him had been horrible. They argued, not even having the energy to truly fight over anything. He had been obliterated by whatever he had taken, and she had been so hurt by the truths he finally unveiled that she hadn't cared.

It wasn't the time to dwell on that now. A broken man sat next to her. A man who had found the body of someone who was the closest thing to family he apparently had. Even she wasn't that bitter. Even she could allow the significance of the situation to bypass whatever bullshit they had going on. She just didn't know what to expect from him. Not that it mattered. She'd be there in any way he needed. As friend, as lover, as mentor, as kindred spirit.

Keys still in her lap, Chloe looked to her right. Lucifer sat there, nearly vibrating from trying to keep himself calm, and continued to stare out the window. Tentatively, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly, just a barely-there pressure. He jumped, nonetheless, followed by a sharp intake of air through his nose. His head snapped to the side, eyes wide and glassy as he looked at her in shock, as if he hadn't expected her to ever touch him again. His jaw clenched once, twice, and on the third time, she could see the tears welling in his eyes. He didn't reciprocate the touch, and when a single, rebellious tear fell to his cheek, her heart broke a little bit more.

She fought the urge to lean over and kiss him. Kiss the tears slowly spilling from his scrunched eyes. Tell him it would be okay, tell him she was there. Tell him he wasn't alone. But she couldn't. It was a lie she wasn't willing to bring him down with. Instead she remained silent, squeezing his leg before retreating back to the emotional safety of her side of the car. She cranked the ignition and pulled out of the precinct guest parking lot.

Lucifer tilted his head back against the headrest, collecting himself as Chloe gently drove through the afternoon traffic. He was building himself up, preparing for what was going to come next. He decided if he didn't start then, he would never do it. "I need to tell you some things," he said plainly, voice low and tired.

Chloe looked back and forth between him and the road, opening her mouth to convince him otherwise. Whatever needed to be said could wait, or so she though. He held up a hand, sighing to himself in a way someone would when about to do something they might regret. Chloe bit her lip, worrying the delicate skin between her teeth before zeroing in on the road ahead of her. Listening.

"I told you briefly about my family, but I didn't tell you why I left," he started, rubbing both hands down his thighs, needing to warm up his hands. "My family are criminals. The high-power elite kind, and I was part of that organization for as long as I can remember," he admitted, reciting his story for what seemed like the umpteenth time. "As I got older, the more responsibility I was given. I was an enforcer, of sorts. I kept clients and associates 'In-check'," he continued, grimacing at his own words. He paused letting that little bit of information sink it. Chloe had heard worse, but he didn't seem to be finished with his story.

"I've hurt a lot of people. I've scared them, threatened them and their families. I've done a lot of horrible shit, enough to make you never want to look me in the eyes again." She could hear the fear in his voice. The fear of being judged, being judged correctly. She was surprised, but not as much as she would have been. Lucifer always had given off an air of confidence and nonchalance that can only be obtained from someone used to power.

"Have you killed anyone?" she asked; a question that shouldn't have been brought up. Something she felt that she really needed to know.

"I don't think so," he replied honestly. She could respect that. He could have easily said 'no', but he didn't. "You see," he started, licking his lips and mulling over his thoughts. "My family is huge; made up of many biological and adopted children, all of whom are involved in 'the family business'." He made air quotes at the end to signal that he knew a crime syndicate was not an actual business. "There's a lot that led up to it, and I don't want to bore you with the details, so I'll keep it as concise as I can."

Chloe turned to look at him at that, her eyebrows knitting together as she waited for him to continue. She wished this conversation could wait until they got home. So she could look in his eyes as he spoke to her, but she understood him wanting to do it now. Wanting to tell her these things when she had a distraction, like driving. So that maybe it wouldn't hit as hard.

"I didn't leave over some moral obligation to do good. I didn't have a "coming to" moment where I realized that what I was doing was wrong," he continued, and she could feel his eyes on her, but she remained focused on the road. "If what happened hadn't have happened, I would most likely still be doing all of it."

"Your accident?" She asked quietly, referring to the short story of his scars that night, so long ago, at the campus pool. She was doing her best to remain calm and open-minded in this fucked-up situation. He was opening up, truly, for the first time, and she would not let herself close any door to his psyche that he kicked open.

Lucifer huffed, nodding his head, one pointer finger resting along his upper lip. From her peripheral, she could see his eyes were dark, red, shiny, and his stubble was a few days past his usual grooming. He didn't look any less irresistible, and that sickened her to realize how much his appearance played a role in their chemistry. She knew, however, by the way her stomach felt as if it were trying to melt a giant ball of ice, that wasn't the only reason she was drawn to him. His soul, the things that made Lucifer _Lucifer_ were the sun to her Icarus, and she flew too close willingly.

"I thought that adding my own rules, trying my own hand at my Father's trade, might spice things up." He shifted in his seat, the tell-tale sign of entering uncomfortable territory, but their entire relationship had been uncomfortable territory, murky waters with no clear boundaries. Why stop at just an unethical relationship? Why not add more criminal fodder to their sexual fire? "There was a girl, and for a while, I thought I might have loved her," he paused after that, licking his lips audibly. Chloe turned her head, then, and nodded in understanding. She remembered what it was like to be young and so full of life, when any amount of affection and lust equated to love. When life held such sweet naiveté, even for those born into corruption.

Chloe turned on the last main road before they entered her neighborhood, and she could tell Lucifer recognized where they were. He rubbed at his temples, knowing that even with this uncomfortable conversation in the car, it was safe. Once they entered her home, Chloe would have the focus; all her attention could go into his words, and he would be remise to not be anxious about that. "What happened with her?"

"Shit went sideways, my father caught on to my antics, she left me for him, and he put out my death warrant," he answered calmly, if not coldly. There was buried resentment in his words, she could sense that, but she couldn't tell who he hated more, the girl or his father. "Anyways," he sighed, as if everything he had spilled had been mundane. "I was to be excommunicated from the family and its business. Condemned, but still at their mercy. That's what brought about the _accident_."

She turned into her neighborhood, the almost picture-perfect view seemed ridiculous for the severity of their circumstances, but life had always been funny that way for her. Ironically, it seemed that way for him, as well. Perfection on the outside, nothing but rooms full of familial clutter and decorated bad memories on the inside. There was so much more to be said, so much that she knew he had to be leaving out, but it seemed that enough had been said for the car ride. They rode the remaining few minutes in renewing silence. Gathering up their withered wits, preparing themselves for more torment past Chloe's doors.

Neither got out of the car once she pulled up in her driveway. They sat there for a few seconds, breathing, worrying their lips between their teeth. The beat of their hearts the only thing either of them could focus on. Chloe made the first move, getting out and hearing Lucifer follow her almost immediately. Once inside, he stood in the hallway as if he were a stranger there, and she took that as he either didn't feel welcome in her home, or that he wasn't comfortable being there. Not after what had been shared at his apartment. The small, wicked part of her liked that; the fact he could feel guilty for what he had done. The majority, the part of her that took precedence, felt sympathy. He was hurting, that much was clear, but she needed to know more. She had just lied on official police documentation. She, at the very least, needed to understand what she had risked.

She placed her keys and bag at the table by the door, and he just stood there, not quite still, but unmoving. He was staring off into nothing. Eyes unfocused, hazy, hair a mess. She could see dried blood in the creases of his hands, the grimy discoloration on the knees of his slacks. Strands of hair clumped together with a slightly lighter color substance than his hair. He was covered in the dried remains of his best friend's blood. It had seeped into his clothes and his pores, he could probably smell the metallic tinge, could feel the tackiness on his skin. He didn't need to keep talking, not just yet. What he needed was to get clean, rinse off the reminders, rinse away the heartache, and feel cared for. Taken care of. _Loved._

**[Bullet with Butterfly Wings]**

Chloe reached out, slowly, placing her fingers in his palm, just getting a feel for his acceptance of the touch. He did jump, but his gaze shot over to her, face neutral but eyes questioning. Hopeful. She licked her lips, wetting the dry skin, and fully grasped his hand, large and warm in hers. Sticky and flaky, as if they had been wiped off and not washed. With the smallest tug, she led the way upstairs, and he followed her without pause. He wouldn't dare question her actions now. Not when it seemed she was giving him something when he didn't deserve anything. She led him through her bedroom and into the en suite. She pushes the door to, but doesn't close it, and she keeps a hold of his hand even as she turns the shower on.

He's was looking at her with that quizzical, pleading expression, like his mind couldn't make up if it was more confused that needing. Once the water was running and provided some solace from the deafening silence between them, she dropped his hand and brought both of hers up to his neck. His eyes fluttered closed and she started to work on the buttons of his shirt. One by one, slowly and carefully, she opened the shirt to reveal smooth, cool skin. Grief could do that to you; make you run cool and empty. Once she finished the last button, she moved to his rolled sleeves, carefully unrolling the material until they were wrinkled and loose along his forearms. She reached up and pushed the shirt from his shoulders, bringing it down his arms and letting it fall to a heap behind him.

Lucifer sucked a large breath in as his torso was exposed to the steaming air and under Chloe's eyes. He couldn't help it; her eyes on him always did things to him, and even like this, in a moment as horrific as the one now, he couldn't avoid what she did to him. What her touch and gaze did to him; made him both pliant and dominating. Like he couldn't wait to bend to her will in one moment and then take her apart from the inside in another. He looked down at her, her eyes so blue and inviting, as her fingers started pulling at his belt. He licked his lips, breathing steadily, hips shifting slightly as she pulled his belt free and quickly started working on his slacks. As she worked, he kicked out of his shoes and shoved them to the side with his foot.

With the slightest push, his trousers fell to his ankles, and he stepped out of them while bending down to take off his socks. Chloe took the smallest of steps back, just to give him enough room, and toed out of her shoes and socks before pulling her shirt off. Her jeans were next and she quickly wiggled out of those, all while staring directly into his eyes. His gaze never left from hers, even when she unclasped her bra and pushed her underwear off. He held her stare, and there was a longing behind the sadness in them. She grabbed his hand again, using the other to open the curtain and pulled him along with her. They turned, letting the back of his neck be hit by the spray of water from the shower head, cascading down his back and running in thin streams over his chest.

His hands by his sides, the water slowly trickling down his arms, the bottom of the shower turned pink, a rosy, watery hue over the white; a far more innocent look than the culprit. The morbid part of her brain, the part that was used to seeing blood and death and torment, liked to believe that the swirling pink was pretty because the woman it belonged to had been a good person, in her own way. For Lucifer's sake. When she tore her gaze from the slowly thinning marbling of water and blood, she looked up to find Lucifer staring directly at her. Incredulously, like he still couldn't believe he was in her shower with her, naked and vulnerable from the Maze-shaped hole in his chest.

He parted his lips, droplets of water misting away as he exhaled his held breath. Slowly, Chloe brought both hands up to cradle his face, stubbled cheeks between her palms. She raised up onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his; warm, wet, and sweet. He whimpered into her mouth as he pulled away and he remained still, statuesque, in his shock. She could see wetness forming in his eyes that didn't belong to the water showering them, and that only forged her decision to go back to him even harder. Before fully sealing their lips together, she slid her tongue along his teeth, and he let her in with a thankful sigh.

She felt his hands circle her wrists, like he worried she would stop touching him. She swiped her thumbs over the tops of his cheeks, to verify she wasn't leaving, and kissed him deeper. It was penetrating in every sense imaginable. The taste and feel of another's mouth, the way a tongue sliding against your own was like a message from their soul; a wordless greeting and a slick plea for more. She trailed her hands down his neck, over the swell of his chest, along the ridges of his stomach and stopped at his hips. His own hands traveled separately, one digging into her damp hair, holding her face close, and the other squeezing at her side, fingers slotting into the spaces between her ribs.

There was still too much space between them, even in the tight confines of her shower, so she pressed her body against his, their hold on each other adjusting in sync to fit perfectly. They shared a quiet gasp as the feel of skin-on-skin; hard planes against soft curves, and with nothing else right in the world, they at least had that. Needing, no, _wanting_ more, she slid her mouth along his jaw and down towards his neck, tongue lapping out along his thundering pulse. He tilted his head to the side with a soft groan, the hand in her hair squeezing just a little, while the other slid down to wrap his arm around her tapered waist.

She could feel the quickly hardening length of his cock against her hip, growing up towards her stomach, pressing into the slightly softer skin there. His hips push into that feeling involuntarily, and that forces surprised gasp above her head. She needed more of that, more of those sounds, and he didn't seem any better off. Desperately, fitfully, she took a hand away from his skin and started searching for the tap blindly. He sought her mouth, their kiss suddenly heated as she found the metal and turned the water off. It was starting to turn cool anyway. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to reach his mouth and he swiped his arm out to push the curtain back. Before she could try to pull away to get out, he reached down and lifted her up, shifting one arm up to wrap around her middle, the other hand holding her up against the back of her thigh.

It was flawless, his step out of the shower with her in his arms. Every step towards the bed was smooth and efficient without feeling hurried. It was as if he was putting all of himself into the moment, pouring every ounce of his soul into her mouth, filling her lungs with passion and desperation until she was blissfully drowning, bits of her own soul trickling into his mouth when her lungs had overfilled. He laid her out, shifting her body farther up the bed with his arm under her back as he followed, his hips never disengaging from hers. They were desperate to feel something, but for two wholly different reasons. Chloe wanted the touch, to remember a time when it was thrilling and simple, something wrong and exciting. The forbidden fruit. The something before it became false and deceptive. Lucifer…Lucifer just needed something else to focus on. Something he could do without the use of his brain. An action he was good at and was able to emotionally distance himself from. He couldn't do that with Chloe, however, but the emotions he felt with Chloe helped drip warmth into the icy depth of his heart. It was like he could imagine feeling something other than hate again.

The air was filled with their gasps and sighs, and they took their time. Mapping out the body of the other, going over quickly learned lines and edges, tasting the decadence once again. Lucifer slotted one of his thighs between hers, tilting to his side to cradle her form against his chest. His hips worked minutely, just the barely detectable, involuntary motions of a body working for what it wanted. Chloe's back arched, her head tilting back, exposing her neck to his hungry lips. His mouth and chin trailed along the delicate skin as if he were trying to ingrain her scent into his senses as well as giver her his. She reached down between them and wrapped a dry hand around his hard cock, squeezing the smooth-but-rigid flesh at the base. He grunted softly, hips snapping forward against her touch as his hands moved up to cup her face, gentle but adamant.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out his sudden apology. "I'm so sorry." His eyes closed, wetness threatening to slip from his lids, as he tilted his face down, unable to face her.

"Shhh," she soothed, releasing her hold on his member and bringing her own hands up to his face, so they were both framing the face of their poor decisions and hasty lust. "Just forget. Everything. Just be here, with me."

Her words were the permission he needed to let go. To drop the thoughts and guilt plaguing his mind and just _let go_. It was all he needed to here. To be there, with her, to let everything else fade into the mist of uncertainty, for him to wander back into once he left the blanket security of Chloe and her aura. He leaned forward, pressing her firmly onto her back on the bed, laying himself over her, shielding her from the nightmares behind him. He wore his mistakes and guilt like the scars on his back, each jagged line a reminder of what his existence has caused, and he was never happier that she couldn't see it to be with him like this.

He was no less needy, but his actions were less reserved, less cautious. His tongue tasted every inch of her mouth, her lips, her neck and chest. His hips slid against hers, bones knocking when they collided, skin sinking into the other where soft. He could feel the beginnings of her slick wetness against his cock resting next to the crease of her thigh. Although he could think of nothing better than sinking into that wet heat, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't taste her. If this were the last time.

Trailing kisses down her skin, dusting her torso in silent goodbyes, he spread her thighs with his hands, massaging the soft swell of skin and muscle before sealing his lips over her sex. It always surprised him whenever he did this; just how her taste and feel of her against his lips was more intoxicating than any liquor ever could be. Her moans were just as inebriating, and he loved these kind. The ones that weren't loud and full of lust, but ones more quiet, surprised, the ones that sounded just as gone as he felt. He could listen to those sounds for the rest of his life, play her the right way, care and maintain day-in-day-out, just to keep hearing those gasps. When his mouth felt coated and thick with her honeyed arousal, he kissed his way back up until her hands could his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in, rubbing his throbbing cock along slit with a high-pitched whine. He could never hold out on her, not when she sounded like that.

**[You Belong to Me]**

It took nothing but a quick shift of their hips, each tilting in their respective directions to get the angle right. He slid into the tight warmth languidly, enjoying the feel of her muscles fluttering, constricting and releasing, as she adjusted to the welcomed intrusion. They stared into each other's eyes, mouths open, breath shared, as their bodies became one at a single point of connection. With one hand on the back of her neck, holding her head in a position so he could watch every facial expression she made, the other grasped at her arms, sliding down skin until he locked their hands and pressed them to the side of the bed. Her free arm circled his neck, fingers carding through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. Brown and blue were swallowed by black, swimming in a sea of arousal; physical and emotional necessity.

They stayed like that for far longer than they ever had, just enjoying the sensation of filling and being filled. He shuddered; a familiar sensation that was never really different from person to person, but the way he felt about the person changed everything. Looking into her eyes, he could see it for himself, a concept he had never put much thought it, not since Eve all those years ago. This was stronger than that had been, he had no doubt about that. Eve had never made him feel like he could both conquer the world and be eaten alive, had never made him want to give everything and take so much. He started moving, long, slow thrusts; more rocking his body into hers, taking her along with the slide of it, than thrusting and fucking. It was all more than just fucking, and that was a thought that neither wanted to focus on. Just the emotional and physical itch being scratched. The rest was something they couldn't admit to themselves yet.

He squeezed her hand, back bowing so he could lick along her neck and chest. She arched a little to give him more skin to suckle at, her mind reeling in the numbing pleasure of it all. He was so good at this, so good at using his body to play hers like a finely tuned instrument. He could throw his all into it and his heart could come out unscathed, but she was not as lucky. She knew this would change things, she knew it and refused to dwell. That was a problem for future Chloe to deal with. The Chloe writhing in the sheets with Lucifer had plenty of distractions from her own thoughts. She could feel an orgasm forming; his mouth had brought her so close, and then sliding inside of her had made her nearly burst, but his slow speed kept her at bay. But he was good, so fucking good, and he angled his hips _just right_, from learning her body, and his cock pressed against that spot inside her that made her toes curl and legs twitch. He was right there, as well, no doubt holding off to feel her cum around him, suck him in deeper, so he could release his tension as far away from his self as possible.

No words had been spoken since she told him to forget; nothing needed to be said. Her mouth opening wider, her breaths coming faster and broken, her hand in his hair tugging at the strands as she gripped his waste with her legs tighter, pulling him closer. He quickened at her tells, going faster, deeper, harder, but not less passionate. They made twin sounds, groans and gasps, as they climbed the peak, Chloe just a little farther ahead than him. She came almost silently, a small whimper escaping her lungs before all the air was blown out and her body seized up. She closed her eyes so hard she saw white, and she could just barely here his chanting in approval before a final grunt, his body stilling for a split-second before his hips pumped into her and his cock throbbed along with her walls, just out of synch, like the echoed thumps of a heartbeat. They panted against one another, chests heaving and air damp between them. The black slowly subsided out of brown and blue, returning to normal, returning to chaotic reality. He licked his lips before kissing her again, slowly, breathlessly, deeply. Chloe wrapped both arms around his neck as his softening cock slipped out of her and he fell to the side. She went with him, turning so they were face to face, legs intertwined, wrapped in each other and their own sheer cocoon. Safe from the threatening mess that waited for them outside of the doors.

**00oo00oo00**

They got under the covers once the sweat on their skin started to cool and they were no longer warm from lingering shower heat and exertion. Chloe left Lucifer in bed, much to his chagrin, so she could place his clothes in the washing machine, since he would remain gloriously naked since she had nothing he could wear. His face had gone stony at that point, and she was almost wondering if he didn't want the last bit of Maze washed away, but he wasn't that neurotically sentimental, and he nodded for her to take them. She had slipped into an oversized t-shirt and sensible underwear before trotting out with an armful of clothes, stained by old blood and trauma.

When she returned to the bedroom, she found him laying where she had left him, picking at his bottom lip in deep thought. He noticed her almost immediately, and pulled back the covers, a plea masquerading as an invitation, for her to get back in bed. She hoped in with a smile, snuggling into the body-warm sheets, staving off the slight chill her bare legs had started working on.

"Hey, Lucifer?" she asked, grabbing his attention. His eyes shot up to hers, and his lips wore a small smile on one corner. "I, I'm, needing to ask a question that you might not want to answer." She finished her statement and the small smile fell from his lips, but he didn't appear mad or upset, more confused than anything. "And if you can't answer, or just don't want to… that's okay. For now."

"Okay…?" he stated, his voice getting higher at the end made it sound like a question, and his brows knitted together, but he didn't move away from her, not even the slightest amount.

Chloe stared at him for a few more seconds, just trying to memorize his features before she asked her question. Before she hurt him and he stormed out. "Do you know who killed Maze?" The question was singular, but gave way to so many implications. Do you know what happened? How were you involved? How did you know where to find her? It broke her heart to see the way his face fell, to see how shocked he was to hear that question from her, but still, he didn't move away.

"Yes," he answered, not even pretending to say it quietly, like he wasn't sure. He was absolutely sure he knew who did it. There was no other reason, and no one else would have been able to get close enough to hurt her. Maze was very good at her job, but she became near-sighted whenever anything had to do with Lucifer. Something he would never forgive himself for.

Chloe let his answer sink in. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but that confirmation wasn't in the realm of impossibility. After all, Lucifer being the one to find her wasn't coincidental; it was purposeful. It had to be. It wasn't like he found her in her apartment. He found her in a nondescript location, where she had been tied up for days. "Are you going to do something about it?"

Without letting his eyes wonder from her gaze, he took a breath, and even he could feel the hate flaring up; warmth engulfing his eye sockets. "Yes." After she swallowed, Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but Lucifer lifted a hand, cupping the side of her face and pressing his thumb against her lips, shaking his head slightly. "Please, don't ask my anything else," he pleaded, soaking in the soft and sharp curves of her face in the golden light. "Let's just have this, us, for a while." What he left out was the _little while longer_, the _until we can't have this_.

Chloe nodded; she could understand. He didn't like lying, and he definitely didn't want to lie to her then, and he definitely didn't want to tell her everything. Part of her hated that, part of her hated the cowardice of it, but the other part of her understood. He really and truly didn't owe her an explanation. Not really. One would have been normal to give, expected, even. But what had ever been normal between them? From what he had admitted to her in the car, Lucifer was not the ordinary playboy Grad-student. He had a past longer than most people twice his age, he had sins behind him that no person as young as he had been should have to bear. If he needed some secrets, she could afford him that.

They spent the next few hours in bed. Chloe had switched his clothes to the dryer after placing a call for delivery. The fact that a diner close by did deliveries was something that made her want to pray to a god she didn't believe in. Surely a higher power had some influence in that diner establishing a delivery route. Surely. They ate burgers and fries in her bed, Lucifer still magnificently naked, lower body wrapped in a sheet while his torso was wonderfully displayed for her. They kissed, laughed, and had a mini food-fight that turned into an oral escapade on both their parts. They cleaned up and actually showered, with soap and shampoo, and Chloe's conditioner that Lucifer pretended to despise. They got back in bed, had sex again, the same way they had earlier. Hand in hand, mouth to mouth and skin, connected as one, but Chloe was over him this time.

**[Glass Heart]**

His hands gripped her hips, pushed and pulled her just right as she gyrated over him. He sat up, posting on a hand behind his back, and sucked on her nipples, switching sides once she had mewled enough to disturb her neighbors. He held her close as she came, and even closer when he followed soon after. They fell asleep pressed together, naked and sated. Lucifer draped an arm over her waist, the other beneath her pillow so her head could rest by his bicep. He was warm and solid behind her, and she was soft and comforting in front of him. They both slept more peacefully than two people in their positions should have. It gave Lucifer a few hours of reprieve from all of the shit going on, from all the pain and guilt he had swimming in his head and chest, from the physical pull towards Chloe, to the rational push his mind kept giving him. Telling him to leave her alone, she didn't deserve to be brought down by him. Too late, really. He felt something for her he hadn't felt in so long. Something he never believed he would feel. The worst part about it was he couldn't explore it. He couldn't try it out and see what could come of it. He had something to do. To finish.

Chloe never felt him leave the bed or kiss her temple as a single tear fell from his cheek into her hair. She never heard him get his clothes from the dryer, clean and crisp as if they hadn't seen blood and heartache. She wouldn't notice he had used her desk to write a note for her that he would leave on the kitchen island. She never heard his shuddering breath and he let himself out of her house, out of her life, and wandered out into the cool dark, where his thoughts would be for the foreseeable future.

**00oo00oo00**

Outside, the late night/early morning was cool and dark, made the ice in his soul rejoice for the comfort. He walked a good distance away from Chloe's house, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention her way. Once he was a few streets down and closer to the main road, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. One he didn't think he would have to call again.

On the fifth ring she answered. "Lucifer?" her sleepy voice whispered through the phone. He could hear the sound of her sheets moving as she probably sat up from her slumber. "Why are you calling me?"

"I need a favor, well, a few, actually, and then we'll be even. Completely, Charlotte. You'll owe me nothing and I'll owe you nothing. All forgotten and forgiven." He let that sink in. He figured she wouldn't deny him the favor, she did call him about Gabriel, and for that, she would be eternally grateful. Maze was found still in decent shape. He knows exactly what would have happened to her body if she had sat there for weeks, or months, before being found.

"What do you need?" She asked plainly, her voice disinterested, but the fact she acknowledged his offer at all was good news.

"Can you come pick me up? My car is still at the harbor. I'll talk to you then," he said, shoving his free hand into his pocket. He was remise to find he had no cigarettes on him, he could _really_ use the distraction at that point.

"Where are you?" Charlotte asked, and he heard more rustling through the phone. She was probably getting up to get dressed, but that was as far as he let his mind wander. He gave her the street name and the neighborhood he was in, and if she recognized the area, she didn't say anything. She told him she'd been there and then hung up. Lucifer stood where he was for a while, leaning up against a STOP sign. He didn't let himself thing too deeply about anything. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings, and thinking about either of them was bound to drive him mad. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Charlotte, a request, really, and pocketed it. He didn't want to see her reply in case it wasn't in his favor.

Charlotte rolled up in her BMW roughly half an hour later, rolling her eyes as she threw the pack of cigarettes at him before he started walking towards the passenger side of her car. "You woke me up to pick your ass up and grab you fucking cigarettes? Are you serious?"

"Wonderful seeing you, too, fuck-buddy," Lucifer jabbed, face falling flat as he started to unwrap the pack. There was silence as Charlotte turned around and left he quiet neighborhood. He told her his address, not bothering with his car. It's not like he would need it. He pulled out two cigarettes and gave her one, he hastily patted at his pockets, realizing he didn't have a lighter, and then one was tossed to him from Charlotte's side of the car. Lucifer sighed in relief, placed both in his mouth to light them and then handed one to Charlotte. She hesitated before taking it, but then she took a long, slow drag that looked to be a religious experience to her. Lucifer chuckled, understanding the feeling, and cracked his window to let most of the fumes out.

"So seriously, why am I picking you up from Chloe's neighborhood to take you back to your place?" So it appeared Charlotte knew exactly where he had been.

"Because," he started, drawling out the word just to be a little shit. "I have to leave the country and take care of some business back home." He stared out the window and could see her face turn towards him in the reflection.

**[Broken Crown]**

"I heard about Maze," Charlotte said, somehow unrelated but completely related to his own statement. "Is that why you're going back to England? To go after your brother?"

"One of a few reasons, yes," he answered. Charlotte knew most of everything. He didn't have to be weary with his words. It's not like he really cared about what she thought.

"So, you just needed a ride? That's all you need from me?"

Oh, she was good, Lucifer thought, shaking his head at his own ignorance. "No, I'm going to need you to help me set up a way to keep both mine and Maze's apartments how they are, no other occupants. I'll set up a wire transfer to send money for the rent, but I'll need your wonderfully barely-legal assistance in getting that set up for me." He smiled at her before taking a drag on the cigarette. Charlotte's was growing quite the impressing ash tail before she tipped it out of the window.

"I can do that," she said with all the confidence of someone who knew how to get shit done.

"And I'll need a ride to the airport after I pack," he added, and she did nothing but lift her gaze, move her head as if weighing her options.

"Then we're even?"

"Then you might never have to see my handsome face or skillful dick ever again," he assured her, smirking as she rolled her eyes at him. It was easy to fall into a rhythm of banter with Charlotte. She was like him in a way; never taking anything too seriously, and never letting her emotions get in the way.

**[Paradise Lost]**

They rode the rest of the ride to his apartment in comfortable silence. Charlotte parked in front of his building and he got out to walk up the stairs one last time before going back to the god-awful country from which he came. Once in his apartment, he went straight to his closet and grabbed a duffle he would check and a backpack he would use as his carry-on. He packed four days' worth of clothes, knowing he would get more once he established himself in England, as well as his toiletries, a pair of shoes, and a blazer. In his carry-on, he packed a book, headphones, chargers, laptop, and a notebook. He would need to start planning and strategizing now. He had a plan to ask one of his siblings for help, but that was either going to work or it wasn't. He needed to be prepared for both outcomes.

Walking down the hall to Maze's apartment was harder than he imagined it would be. He let himself in to the place that had not yet become stale with vacancy. He dropped both bags by the door; he only needed to grab two things from here, and then he would leave, but he had something he had to do first. He walked over to the kitchen, found her favorite bottle of tequila on top of the fridge and grabbed two shot glasses. He put the glasses down side by side and poured out two shots. He lifted his, toasting the air, and knocked it back with a hiss. It was strong, just like Maze enjoyed it, and it burned like hell.

"Amicus est unus animus in duobus corporibus," he recited, a statement from Aristotle that Maze would have gagged at before smiling at him, calling him a dork or something. He leaves her glass on the counter, a drink waiting for her in the afterlife, and went about finding the two object he wouldn't leave for this mission without. Of all places, he found the twin curved blades in her underwear drawer, where she kept all her fancy things for special occasions. He placed them into his duffle that would be checked so he could actually get them to where they needed to be. He took a final look at the life his friend wouldn't get to come back to and left, locking her door, leaving the last pieces of her sealed away from anyone else that could try to harm her.

He got back in Charlotte's car and they were off to the airport in more silence. It was welcomed. He didn't feel like talking after that. He had a final cigarette as they neared the airport and he placed the pack in his backpack to be had as soon as he landed. Charlotte pulled up to the ticketing drop off just as the sun was beginning to rise in the sky, signaling a new day.

"You were right, you know," Lucifer started, looking over to the woman who clearly had no idea what to say to that. "You're no worse than I am, and people like us don't get happy endings," he said, giving her a sad smile. She returned his sad smile, reaching out to place her hand on his arm. He could see that she wasn't a bad person, just someone who got involved in hard decisions and complex situations. Someone who wanted everything and was willing to do whatever to get it. He understood that. Lucifer leaned over and gave her a quick peck to the corner of her mouth before grabbing his bags and getting out of the car. He didn't look back and she didn't look in his direction as she pulled out into the traffic of other people dropping someone off like baggage, to go be a problem or a solution somewhere else. Charlotte would do what he asked, she felt she owed him that much, and then she would be done with that entire fucking family, and she would focus on hers. Whatever Lucifer had planned was way outside of her jurisdiction, and she couldn't help but fear the fire she saw in his eye when he said he had to take care of something. She knew what that meant, and he looked more than capable.

* * *

**A/N: The Latin phrase Lucifer said in Maze's apartment loosly translates to "a friend is one soul in two bodies". It is, indeed, a statement by Aristotle. I hope you liked another chapter, with yet another to come. It turns out that having a chapter be 30+k long would have been ridiculous. No matter the length of the next, it'll be the final. It has to be this time! Haha. Until then! xoxo**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **It's been a long time, so all I'll say is that this is highly unedited, I didn't even go over it because I didn't want to risk the endless loop of self-doubt for what I did, plus I was WAY TOO EXCITED! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

She woke slowly to the feeling of a cold bed. No longer a solid warmth behind her, holding her close. She reached behind herself to feel the sheets cold, as if they had been left empty for hours. Chloe was both rested and alert. She hadn't slept that heavily in a long time, but waking up alone after going to bed with someone was a strange feeling that she hadn't missed from her marital days. Groggily, eyes still blurry with sleep, she got up and slid the large t-shirt back on, forgoing anything for her bottom half. It seemed it was still pretty early, and she hoped she could convince Lucifer to go back to sleep.

He wasn't in her bathroom, and didn't appear to be upstairs anywhere either. Her brows knitting together, she trod down the stairs towards the living room. Nothing. She checked the dryer and found that it was empty; his clothes gone. A cold feeling formed in the pit of her stomach as she turned towards the kitchen and found it empty, as well. A combination of hurt and anger swarmed in her chest, but that was interrupted by the sight of a single sheet of paper, her stationary, sitting on the island, covered in small, neat handwriting. Her hand shook as she reached out and grab the note, her breath equally unsteady as she started to read in her head.

_Chloe, _

_It would be easy to say that it's not like me to leave before saying goodbye, but even you know that's not true. This time it wasn't to avoid an awkwardly clingy morning. I would have cherished that with you. No, this time it was out of fear; fear of telling you and seeing your disappointment, for purely selfish reasons. I didn't want for our last night together to be tainted by anything else. I had already ensured your pain earlier. _

_You asked me if I knew who killed Maze, and I do. It's the why I was too afraid to explain. I told you some of my family dynamic, of what I was trying to leave behind. Charlotte getting involved with corresponding with my family turned into a plot to find me and punish me for leaving the family behind. I didn't tell you that I had a run-in with one of my brothers here, in L.A. I didn't tell you in order to protect you. You didn't need to concern yourself in a matter I believed to have handled. _

_Maze, being the force of a human being she was, insisted on helping me. With her unlimited resources, she was able to track him. When she went missing, I honestly hadn't suspected it to be my brother's doing, however, if anyone were to ever overpower her, it would be him. I know without any uncertainty that my brother is responsible for what happened to Maze. _

_In order to keep this brief, I'll be as up-front as I can. My brother went back home, to England, and I intend to find him. I need to make it right. She deserves that much. It kills me to leave. I've never wanted anything more than to be with you. Simply hold you and tell you how special you are (the other stuff is just a bonus). You've helped me see what a future could look like, one without deals or bargains, one without violence and hate. I can't tell you how long I'll be gone, because I don't know that. I can't expect you to wait for me. Just know that I value the time I had with you more than anything. What I feel for you is even deeper than what I can comprehend. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I wouldn't have been able to leave if I had to look at you and walk away. _

_Thank you, Professor._

_Truly,_

_Lucifer, the one who might actually be the Devil_

_PS: Apologies; I just had to make you roll your eyes one more time._

Chloe stared at the note in her hand huffing a sad chuckle as her eyes welled-up with tears she wouldn't shed, mouth open and breath short. He was gone. Just like that, with nothing but paper and ink, he was out of her life. She sat down at the island in one of the tall stools there. Her eyes burned with tears, but she refused to let herself cry. She wouldn't. She was angry and hurt, a devastating combination, but she understood, at some level. Lucifer had changed her unexpectedly. She could tell she had learned to open-up again. Learned to take back her own power, see her physicality as not something to be treated as fragile. She didn't have to keep herself wrapped in bubble-wrap to feel whole. She could be free and move on from her past, always remember, but move on from it. Allow herself to touch again without the guilt of it.

She could tell that there was still so much left unsaid, so much he could have explained. He would have had to write for hours to tell it all, but she would have read it. Would have soaked it in. Instead she was left with a brief explanation, a fragile admission, and a final goodbye. Ten minutes later, she stopped pouring cream into her coffee, rolling her eyes a second time. Who the fuck used _semicolons_ in fucking hand-written letters?

* * *

Lucifer went up to the ticket counter in the always-busy LAX, booking a seat on the next available flight to London. He checked the suitcase he packed with necessities and Maze's blades. The trek through security was as miserable as ever, and the small amount of items in his backpack made it just the slightest bit easier for him. He had four hours until his flight departed, but he needed to be at the gate at least two hours prior. Not a significant wait, but a boring one, nonetheless. He went into the first store he could find one in the international terminal and bought a bottle of water and a questionable sandwich all for a price that made him nearly too nauseated to even eat it.

He drank his water, ate his gross sandwich and waited at the gate, sitting on an uncomfortable chair/bench combination with stains he didn't even want to think about. He was inconspicuous in the crowd. Well, as inconspicuous as one who looked like him could be. He'd received some looks during his wait from a few women roaming the airport, young and old alike. One man eyed him for slightly longer than heterosexual male customs allowed. That was pretty flattering. For the first time in his life, Lucifer had absolutely no interest in any of the attention. He smiled back politely, but made sure he didn't put out any _yes, I'm ready to do bad things with you_ vibes like he usually did. He was on a mission, and subsequently, his dick was just an unavoidable passenger. Maze would probably call him an idiot for passing up the opportunity and go grab one of the girls and the guy (let's be real) and take them into the bathroom, and that thought actually put a small, sad smile on his face.

He spent the rest of the wait sitting alone, for the most part. Occasional someone would sit next to him, but would move a few minutes later to find another seat. It probably had something to do with the overall hate emanating from his being. He couldn't stop it. It was something he always had, even as a child. His temper, and the ability to let his rage override every other logical thought in his brain, was something he struggled with. He never saw it as an affliction until much later, when that wrath could come back to bite him in the ass, when the anger and hate were so strong and bubbling towards the surface that he willingly allowed himself to go back into that mindset. Into the mindset he had to have working for his Father. The one that would allow him to enact the right vengeance for Maze. For making him walk away from the only person he never wanted to go without; not now. He can almost picture the way Maze would be sitting next to him, in her tight leather ensemble that made women envy her and men want to peel her out of it. Legs crossed, one heavy leather boot dangling from her raised ankle, no doubt blowing bubbles from her cinnamon gum in his ear. She'd ask what the plan was, want to know all the details of the task. The _who_ and _where_ didn't matter, not even the _why_ most times. All that had mattered to her was that someone she cared about needed her help. Maze didn't keep many people close (in fact, he was her only _close_ companion), but what she lacked in quantity she gave all in the depth of her abilities. Lucifer would do the same for her. Even though he didn't believe in Heaven or Hell, or whatever else there may be, he hoped that Maze would know he would do everything to make it right. He hoped her bones would feel the retribution before being sent to the next hospital for research. Maze was practical like that, making herself useful even in death (actually, she had told him that she got off to the idea that some med-student might jerk-off to her corpse. Maze was a rare and special creature).

Time went by, he boarded the crowded plane and finally let himself sleep as soon as they reached cruising altitude. He slept most of the trip, unsure of when he would get the ability to sleep (mostly) soundly again. Not there. Not back in England where his Father's eyes and ears were everywhere. Where he would see all and know all, somehow, someway. He was sure that the sudden arrival of his long-lost, begotten son would sound some alarms. He just hoped to beat them, to stop the bell-ringer, so he could catch his family off-guard. That was crucial; necessary.

Lucifer woke to a stewardess handing him a coffee and a customs form with suggestive smile on her pink-painted lips. Lucifer accepted the bitter, weak coffee with a small smile, taking the form and noticing a small note in the top corner. The stewardess raised an eyebrow when she saw him notice her offer, and without much of a glance, she headed towards the front of the plane. It was then that Lucifer noticed the still-dark cabin, most passengers sleeping, those awake with their noses buried in some sort of device. The note said _First-Class bathroom, to the right_. That was it; short, concise, to the point. Lucifer appreciated that. He took a final sip of his horrible coffee, face screwing up in disgust before he got a taste of the whiskey she must have spiked it with. He raised the cup in appreciation for that and calmly rose from his seat. He knew Maze would _definitely_ be rolling in her For Scientific Research morgue-box if he passed that ass up. One final hurrah before the literal shit-storm he was about to cause.

* * *

He would have laughed as he stepped out of the airport in London if he hadn't expected it to be as grey and cool as it was. England, where you hardly had to fear melanoma and needed an extra dose of Vitamin D (and_ not_ the fun kind). The great thing about airports everywhere was that there was always an endless supply of cabs available right outside the main doors. He had missed the tell-tale black cabs, looking sophisticated and full of class until you got inside. That was much of England, if he considered it. Everything looked posh and elegant, until you stepped inside and realized it was just as debased as the rest of the world. A real polished turd, his long-estranged home.

He opened the door, almost on the wrong side for English custom, but he found he was quickly falling back into line with what Mother England had deemed _the right way_ all those centuries ago. He told the cabbie an address for a townhome he hoped still housed a certain sibling of his. One of the less-fortunate children his Father had adopted, groomed, and enslaved (probably the wrong term for the individual) to be part of his criminal syndicate. Out of the five years he had been away, this brother was someone that crossed his mind time-to-time. They butted-heads and fought more times than he could count, but they always respected one another. Always saw the dark encompassing their work. This brother, however, felt a deep-rooted duty to their Father because of the life he had taken him out of. Lucifer understood, but that didn't make him right.

It took him less time than he had hoped. Just as he began to doze, he was jostled awake by the vehicle quickly stopping at the sidewalk in front of a long row of upper-middle class townhomes. Nice, tall brownstone buildings that did nothing but give off the air of sophistication. He pulled used the cabbie's electronic payment system (how modern) as the driver retrieved his bags from the boot (yes, he did remember that, thank you). Lucifer was left outside with his bags, staring at the townhome matching the address he had given. He _really_ hoped his brother still lived there, and not some spinster woman with 10+ cats. He shuddered; he was like catnip to those women. He had literally had one jump on him in his early twenties.

Lucifer sighed heavily as he walked up to the maroon door, one he hadn't seen in so many years. He rang the bell and waited. He thanked whatever deity was out there when he saw the large, dark figure forming in the frosted glass panels on either side of the door. The man opened the door, his eyes widened when he saw Lucifer and took a step back. There was a moment of pause for both men; one clearly too shocked to form words, the other unsure of what to say.

"Luci!" the tall, dark man exclaimed breathily, his American accent on display. He immediately lunged forward, pulling Lucifer into a huge bear hug, squeezing to the point of pain.

"Yes, hello, brother," Lucifer wheezed out, letting the emotional man have his moment. Amenadiel was always one to be touchy-feely, despite his size. He was a gigantic softie with a mean right-hook. The only person you'd want to hold you on your couch while you cry and eat a gallon of ice cream, and then have on your side when an all-out brawl began. "Still not a hugger," he added, trying to take a deep breath, failing, and coughing out a choke of desperation for air and space.

"Where the hell have you been?" the large man continued, deciding his younger brother didn't need the oxygen he was being deprived of. He hugged him for a few more seconds before released the clearly uncomfortable Lucifer from his massive embrace.

"Land of the free, home of the moronically brave," Lucifer said whimsically, dusting his chest off, even though he still had on his grimy airport clothes. "The place you got all your brawn and lack of brains." He added that with smirk, and the smile actually reached his eyes.

"America?" Amenadiel asked, brows pinching together. Lucifer looked at him quizzically, nose scrunching as he lowered his backpack to the ground with his duffle. The older brother reached down and grabbed the bags, bringing them through the front door without preamble. Lucifer, hesitantly, followed suit. That was something he never thought about. What his family thought had happened to him. He figured their Father had come up with some elaborate story, a story to learn from, to fear the same fate. Something just as harsh but less _potential death_ than the situation had been.

"Brother?" Lucifer started, trying to follow the bulkier man through the narrow hallway of the townhome. It was neat, sparse of much decoration; something Lucifer had always had in common with his adopted brother. "What do all the disciples think happened?" The term _disciples _was a joke that he and Amenadiel had used to refer to themselves and their other siblings. Their Father's penchant for religious symbolism just made the usage of it that much more fitting. "What did Father say?"

Amenadiel set Lucifer's bags down in the quaint living room, motioning to the couch for Lucifer to, presumably, sit upon while he went and got some drinks. Amenadiel, the always understanding, brought back two bottles of quality beer, and Lucifer thanked him graciously by pressing his hands together in mock-prayer, bowing, and then grabbing the bottle as if it were the Holy Grail.

"Honestly, he didn't say much, and I was the only one who asked any questions," the darker man admitted, swallowing thickly, guiltily, pinching his brows together. He sighed heavily before sitting down in a chair next to the couch, fingers clutching the beer bottle anxiously. "He said you fucked up, did something unforgiveable, that you had been punished and, essentially, kicked-out."

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes at the absurdity as he took a long, slow pull from the bottle. It was crisp, light, refreshing, and bitter as it slid down this throat. "Let me guess, everyone else just took his word for it blindly?" When he met Amenadiel's eyes again, his brother shrugged, nodding slightly as his face fell in regret. "Please, don't get all remorseful on me now," Lucifer started, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. "Anyone who would have sided with me would have suffered the same fate." There was a silent understanding between them as their brown eyes mingled.

A few more moments passed between them where they caught up, talked about what had been going on in their lives, what Lucifer had been up to for the past five years in America, of all places. Unable to avoid it anymore, Lucifer had to explain his sudden return to the Motherland. He gave the other every painfully graphic detail of the events that had transpired to lead him to Amenadiel's doorstep. His brother listened intently, and it really showed the trouble of their family that he didn't once question the validity of each statement. Lucifer ghosted over Chloe, not wanting to share too much on such a delicate topic. He wanted that for himself. He wanted her image and memory to belong to him, to not let anyone else have her name to say and taint. Gabriel was worse enough.

Talking about Maze proved more difficult than he could have imagined. There were multiple times were he had to shy away from Amenadiel's hand trying to reach out to comfort him when his voice became shaky, when his eyes grew shiny. They talked for hours, and Amenadiel kept the libations flowing, listening just as intently as he had in the beginning. He told Lucifer that Gabriel had been given more and more responsibility in the last few years as was working his way towards being able to take over the _family business_ whenever Father was unable to run it from his omnipresent throne.

Lucifer learned a lot about how things had changed and how they had remained the same. Amenadiel had no problem discussing anything with Lucifer, and he made it clear that his loyalties lied with himself, but he had a duty to Father. He made it very clear, though, that he felt no moral obligation to Father, just an obligation to repay him for the life he was given, as fucked up as it was. When Lucifer asked him for help in getting into the compound, Amenadiel was only hesitant because Lucifer wouldn't tell him the details of what he was planning.

"It's better this way, Brother," Lucifer said, sitting back on the couch and finally relaxing since landing in that godforsaken country. "Plausible deniability and everything, in case shit goes sideways. Just another one of those American idioms I've grown fond of."

"But I could help," the other argued, leaning forward with his muscular elbows on his equally muscular knees. "If you just told me-"

"You're helping plenty by giving me a layout of the estate, where people are posted, and appointment times. All very important, as I'm sure there's been changes since my untimely dissension," Lucifer interrupted, holding up a hand. It's not that he didn't appreciate the offer, or feel like he couldn't use the help, but he wouldn't let Amenadiel put himself in the line of punishment if Lucifer didn't come out on top. "Please, I _have_ to do this," he pleaded, punctuating his words with minute gestures. The older brother stared at him for a moment before conceding with a nod. He was never able to keep Lucifer from what he wanted for very long. Revenge wouldn't be the start of that.

* * *

Days passed by, leading into weeks. Chloe was grateful for her class, having something to occupy her thoughts, but the absence of an irreplaceable presence haunted her. If she let her eyes lose focus into the crowd of students, if she let everything get blurry as she spoke without hearing, she could see him in her peripheral; long, dark, brilliant. Each passing day didn't get easier, instead, becoming a paresthesia dwindling into a numbness bone-deep. She cried the morning he had left, the morning she had read his note, and she wouldn't allow herself to cry more. It was ridiculous, the feelings that seemed so obvious now that he wasn't around to distract her, make her body ache with the loss of him inside her, make her crave the heat of his touch and gaze.

The course was almost over. Finals were quickly approaching, and the end of the semester, with the promise of the same material for another set of students, forced Chloe to really think about her career shift. She enjoyed teaching, more than she ever thought she would, but it didn't ignite anything inside her. It didn't make her happy to go to work every day. It didn't make her proud of herself. It _definitely _had lost its excitement; roaming away somewhere in England.

The end-of-the-semester crisis she was having was to blame for standing outside of one Charlotte Richards' office. She knocked on the door before opening it slowly. The tall woman looked surprised to see her, but there was a tight smile on her lips, and Chloe immediately wanted to slap it off her face. "Ms. Decker, what a lovely surprise," Charlotte expressed, standing only to motion for Chloe to sit in a chair across from her desk. She smoothed the back of her pencil skirt before taking her seat again. "What can I help you with?"

Chloe fought the urge to roll her eyes, and _that_ brought on a wave of emotions she wished weren't tied to that motion. "I just wanted to come by and inform you that I do not plan to return next semester." The words were out. The thing that had taken over the other half of her thoughts. It wasn't that teaching was lacking any sort of fulfillment, but she felt like she was running away, letting a piece of shit win by taking away her career, the thing she loved. Although Trixie had begged her to leave, and had been relieved that she did, how could she feel like she was setting a good example for her daughter by running? By letting a man, no matter how lowly, dictate what she did, control her through fear? No. That wasn't an example she wanted to give; that wasn't being the right role model for her daughter.

Chloe was brought out of her thoughts by Charlotte's scoff, an incredulous sound that matched the disbelief on her poised-to-perfection features. "What?"

"I won't be returning next semester," Chloe reiterated, voice even and sure. She waited for that to process in Charlotte's mind; it was clearly taking a while if the dumbfounded look on her face said anything. That look was quickly changed to a smug one, though, and that sent a chill through Chloe's system, her blood turning icy. She didn't hate her, but there was genuine dislike in her heart.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Charlotte drawled, a smirk set on her painted lips. "I hope none of the staff or student body had any influence in this decision." So much implication in those words, so much knowledge in those eyes, and yeah, maybe Chloe was well on her way to hating her.

The fact of the matter was that Charlotte knew everything. What Lucifer had told Chloe made that clear as such. One thing was certain, though: Charlotte didn't know that Chloe knew. She hoped to wipe that smug grin off her face, maybe make her a little concerned about her position, maybe not. Chloe wasn't out to destroy this woman, she was really no better off, but she didn't want to play the fool anymore.

"Of course not. My time with my students was perfect." She let that sink in. Only the slightest change in Charlotte's demeanor was noticed. "I just think I'm more cut out for helping people instead of teaching them."

"Why's that?" Charlotte asked immediately, cocking her head to the side as she peered at Chloe. "Feel like you get too close to the students? Not able to teach and get friendly?" A telling smirk spread on Charlotte's lips, and Chloe's face fell from indifference to awareness. Simmering awareness. Charlotte was smart, and Chloe should have never assumed that she wasn't aware of everything Chloe knew.

"No, I'm able to be close and remain objective," Chloe protested, a fake smile planted on her face. Charlotte huffed a small laugh before leaning back more comfortably in her seat; no longer needing to keep appearances. Charlotte was smug, Chloe could tell, that she was sleeping with Lucifer all while he was charming his way into Chloe's pants, and, subsequently, heart. "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Charlotte laughed a little at that, an actually laugh that spelled out how little of concern the situation was to her. "I guess we both know that some students can leave quite the impression, hm?" And if that wasn't the goddamn truth. Chloe wasn't sure where to go from there, what she could say to leave Charlotte's office on-top. There probably wasn't. She'd just have to leave with the little dignity she could, having that woman know that she played a part in getting her fucked by a student.

"The question is," Chloe started, leaning forward, tilting her head up as if she was really pondering some philosophic question of the cosmos. "I wonder if Dan knows the impression certain students can leave." It was as much a threat as any one statement could be. Chloe watched the way Charlotte's eyes darkened, dangerously, the way a predators would when face-to-face with a gun, someone higher on the food chain. "But that's none of my business," she sighed, leaning back into her own chair, wearing her own smug grin.

Charlotte considers Chloe's words, smartly deciding to not say anything. Chloe got her, and while she was sleeping with Lucifer while dating Dan, Charlotte really did care for the man. Chloe could tell Dan liked Charlotte as well. Maybe they were good for each other. Maybe they worked well, both being so invested in their careers to understand the need to make it a priority. "I know he's gone," Charlotte states after what seemed like an eternity. Chloe's eyes shift up, to look at the woman, a sick mix of hope and hate for why she would know, _how_ she could know. "Can I give you some advice?" she cut in, after watching Chloe stew in her own thoughts for a few minutes. She didn't wait for a response. "Whatever _problem_ he has with his family, just stay away. And believe me when I say, he cares for you, more than I thought someone like him could."

"Yeah, I don't really care what you have to say," Chloe replied honestly, making a move to stand up and leave. Charlotte held up her hand as soon as Chloe stood, and whether it was for amusement of hope of more, she waited.

"Golden Gate Firm," Charlotte said, and Chloe looked at her flatly. "Just, that's all you need to know." Chloe nodded at that and turned around to leave. She closed Charlotte's door with much more force than necessary and started to walk towards the parking garage. What she needed to say was said, and within a few weeks, she'd never have to see that woman again. Unless her and Dan became unfortunately serious.

Once Chloe arrived at home, she entered Golden Gate Firm, UK into her search browser and found multiple pages of information. So much so that it was overwhelming. Luckily, Ella had taught her about how to search for specifics, and her detective training gave her insight into how criminals worded documents to make them sound legit. What she found was incredibly suspicious, and all signs pointed to high-end criminal.

* * *

Weeks passed; long endless days and nights of planning and thinking. Lucifer spent those nights alone, with nothing but the company of his own hand and very vivid imagination. Images of honey hair, tanned skin, and soft lips fled through his mind on those nights. His fist tight around his cock, pillowy breasts and strong thighs flash before an open mouth and arched back force an orgasm out of him. All so vivid but not enough, never enough. His mind was generic versus the high-end of her in reality. He longed for the feel of her again; the ache deep in his chest even as his body swam in the afterglow.

He was close, close to storming those golden gates his Father built up. Maybe after that he could finally have what he so dearly longed for. Maybe after that things could be normal, and he could feel whole, being with one person, and wanting nothing else. He didn't let himself linger on those thoughts too long, gave him too much to lose in the wake of what he had in store.

He and Amenadiel had spent countless hours of equally countless days going over the schematics of what Lucifer was needing to do to even get to the compound. After a futile argument, Amenadiel managed to convince Lucifer of accepting his help in more than just the indirect way. Amenadiel was about to drive into the compound without suspicion, in fact, he was always welcome. He was their Father's favorite adopted child. Amenadiel had been the best athlete during school, became a black belt in Ju-Jitsu before graduating from University. He was the best amateur fighter in England, so yes, he was a favorite of the children their Father _saved_ from less ideal situations. Bringing Amenadiel home from an orphanage in America had proven to be a great professional decision. None of the adoration and attention made him overlook all the questionable activities he was asked to perform, though. While he felt a duty to their Father for taking him in, he wasn't naïve to think that the man didn't deserve one hell of a legal wake-up call.

So, after a night of Scotch and pizza, the two brothers felt as ready as they'd ever be. They had a time set, they had locations picked out on make-shift maps they drew out of paper, color-coded, of course. Lucifer also knew that Gabriel would be there. Amenadiel hadn't been given word, per se, but he had been told that the eldest Son had returned, laying low at the compound, back from America, successful as ever. Immediately Lucifer wanted to walk into that lavish building and put a bullet through his brother's head, but Amenadiel had talked him out of it, ever the pragmatic supporter.

In the morning Amenadiel would get into his car and drive to the family's estate, to check-in with the security there. He was a large proponent of the family's security, so weekly meetings and check-ins were normal. What they wouldn't know was that Lucifer would be in the trunk (and Amenadiel was so happy to hear someone say "trunk" instead of boot) of his car, loaded down with Maze's knives, his fists, and one gun. He _truly_ hoped that wouldn't be necessary. Guns were so impersonal, and loud, although no more messy than a knife could be. Amenadiel would try his best to round up as many of the security team as possible and hold them in a very long, very boring, but seemingly important training seminar. After his brother had explained how he would distract security, Lucifer almost felt sorry for them; he almost fell asleep listening to that part of the plan.

The next morning, after a light breakfast and spiked coffee (for the nerves, seriously, he performed better with a little liquor in his system), both men got in their respective locations and drove off. Lucifer kept replaying all of the scenarios he had in his head, had not choice in the pitch black of the trunk. It was nearly thirty minutes of pure hell, all of the ways this could go completely wrong, Lucifer being _actually_ murdered by a family member, for starters. There was the option that Amenadiel could go down with him, and he would avoid that at all costs. He wouldn't drag a sibling down with him; it wasn't his fight.

The feud with his family was as personal as personal could get. It went beyond the "disappointing son, too-proud father" trope, and it definitely went beyond any sibling rivalry that could ever happen in such a large family, where worth was based off your usefulness. Not only had his family abandoned him when all that needed to be done was a conversation, or just an inkling of autonomy from a tyrannical parent, but brothers, those he had been close to, had betrayed him wholeheartedly. Michael let the words of a cold man erase any camaraderie they had shared, and Gabriel was too far gone for anything but the punishment Lucifer had for him.

Lucifer felt the car start to slow down to a full stop, and then the muffled voices of Amenadiel and a few other men sounded from outside the car. When he felt the tell-tale sign of Amenadiel getting back into the car, the entire vehicle shifting under his weight, Lucifer exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Everything was going as planned, so far… two steps in. There was still plenty to go wrong, but he didn't focus on that. He closed his eyes and let the red of all his anger and rage flood his vision; images of Chloe and Maze swirling throughout the hate, making that emotion even stronger. He no longer had either of them, because of his fucking family. The ones that deserved it would pay for it.

* * *

"Monkey, I know you're worried, but I've thought a lot about this, and it's the best decision for me," Chloe tried explaining to her upset daughter. She knew telling Trixie she was going back to work for LAPD would not go very well, but she was firm in her decision.

"You said you wouldn't do it," the young girl argued, cheeks pink from anger. She had a lot of rage built up in that tiny body, but Chloe knew she was a smart kid; she'd understand once she heard her reasoning.

"I know, honey, but look," she started, grabbing Trixie's hand in both of hers and setting them in her lap. "I liked teaching, I did, but I didn't feel like myself." It was the truth, after all. Chloe Decker wasn't Chloe Decker without a badge and gun on her hip. "I enjoy helping people, and being a cop is my dream. I miss it."

"But it's not safe," Trixie argued, a small pout on her lips as her eyes widened in that way only a child's can. "You could get hurt, like last time."

"Yes, I could," she agreed, not even trying to sugar-coat it. It wouldn't be worth it, or right. "But anyone could get hurt at any time, but being a cop means I could try to help people so they don't get hurt." Chloe let that sentence sit, thinking on how certain people had gotten hurt, and she had had no way of helping them. "Do you remember my friend Lucifer?"

Trixie's face immediately lit up, and it appeared that Lucifer's charm was not wasted on the young, either. "I like him, he's funny."

"Yes, he is funny," Chloe said, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Well, a really good friend of his got hurt, really bad," and Chloe was definitely not going to discuss how she was hurt. That would have been too much, and too close to home. Trixie's eyes widened, and Chloe continued. "I just want to help make sure other people don't get hurt like that. Do you understand?"

The little girl sat there, staring at her mother, really letting her thoughts simmer in her head. Her brows knit together, but then she nodded her head, leaning in for a close hug. "You'll be careful?" she asked, her voice high and breaking.

"Of course!" Chloe assured her, smiling into the hug. "I'll have a partner and I won't go anywhere without backup. Deal?"

Trixie pulled back from the hug and considered her mother, thinking for a second before raising an eyebrow. "Add chocolate cake, and it's a deal."

* * *

"Okay, Luci, don't be too fucking stupid here," Amenadiel whispered to him as soon as he opened the trunk to let his brother out.

Lucifer looked offended as brushed himself off, dressed in black slacks, a charcoal grey dress shirt, and a silky, red tie. He was classy that way. He liked his violence immaculate. "I'll have you know, Brother, I'll be as _stupid_ as I need to be." He emphasized the word with an American accent that he knew made most people uncomfortable coming from his mouth. It worked. "Besides, this is my jam, fists then talking later." Amenadiel rolled his eyes, worry setting into his dark complexion. He looked off towards the guard shack, where he was going to go hold the impromptu meeting, folding his obscenely large arms across his chest.

"Okay, so give me about 10 minutes for the word to spread about a security meeting," Amenadiel stated, hands on his hips. "Most of the guards should come towards the shack, where I'll keep them occupied as long as I can." Lucifer nodded, checking his person for the weapons he decided to bring, ensuring they all were easily reachable. "Not everyone can leave their post, as you know. The ones at the doors to the estate will stay, so there's only a few you'll need to incapacitate," he continued, looking pointedly at his brother; waiting.

"What are you staring at?" Lucifer asked, looking down at himself in case some sort of fluid had spilled on him whilst in the trunk.

"Incapacitate, Luci. Not kill."

"Bloody hell," Lucifer sighed, indignant. "Of course! I'm not a murderous monster!" He started rolling the sleeves of his shirt, not only for aesthetic, but practicality in movement. Amenadiel continued to look at him as if he'd tried to sell him snake oil. "That time wasn't my fault!"

"Right," Amenadiel drawled, leaning against the car.

"First of all, alcohol was involved," Lucifer started, holding up his pointer finger. "Second, I was young and angsty," he continued to argue, earning further disbelieving looks. "And third, they questioned my virility," he concluded, fishing with his sleeves.

"We can't have that, now," Amenadiel joked, looking at his phone for the time.

"And it wasn't murder, it was involuntary manslaughter. I could not have foreseen that two men could expire via inflatable sex doll." Although it was grim, the entire situation could be seen as hilarious, from an outsider perspective, of course. Lucifer could tell his brother was fighting off a laugh.

"Well, only you could figure that out how to turn a blow-up sex toy into a weapon."

"Improvise, adapt, and overcome, brother," Lucifer recited, smirking. "I'm pretty sure your people came up with that." At that, Amenadiel's eyes widened and he looked at Lucifer like he wanted to run him over with the car. "I meant Americans, you fucking moron!" Lucifer smacked his brother on his bald head, and Amenadiel pushed Lucifer so hard he almost slid over the car. Shenanigans ensued.

The two brothers parted shortly after they collected themselves from their childish shenanigans of trying to get the other one to beg for mercy. In the years Lucifer had been gone, apparently Amenadiel had learned a few tricks to ensure his victory via submission. Lucifer grouched that the only reason he tapped was because he needed _both_ arms for this endeavor. They went their separate ways after Amenadiel had clapped Lucifer on the shoulder, telling him to be careful, and that he wasn't in this alone. Lucifer had smiled before turning away, but the truth of the matter was that he would ensure he acted alone. He was positive his brother's antics with the guards wouldn't rouse suspicion, especially with what Lucifer had planned.

There was one guard on the side door Lucifer had decided to breech at. He was easy enough. Lucifer's advantage was his height, and the fact that he had done his own stint in the family's security, not to mention his position as an enforcer for his Father ensured he received the best training when it came to _incapacitating_ people. Lucifer scaled the side of the building, thanks to his years of sneaking out as a teen, he had perfected climbing up and down the side of the mansion with relative ease. Years had not diminished his ability there. Silently, Lucifer moved until he was within reach of the guard, jumped from his perch on a balcony above, and stunned the guard with a knife-hand to the jugular. It stunned the guard, and that gave him the time to get behind him, wrap an arm around his neck, and squeeze. He squeezed into the blood-choke until he felt no resistance, knowing that as soon as he let him go, he'd quickly come back to consciousness. He used the few seconds he had to hog-tie the guard and throw him into the linen closet just past the door he was guarding.

He was in, and had hardly broke a sweat. He immediately felt suspicion wash over him. It was easy. Way too easy. Then again, he had never tried to break-into his old home before; especially not after getting access through the heavily guarded gate, brought in by a brother willing to risk it. The familiar quiet of the mansion eased his mind. It had always been eerily quiet in the estate, so much so he had played the large grand piano to add some sound to the overwhelmingly silent air. It was surprising that he still knew exactly where he was, even after all this time, and nothing had changed. At all. The décor and art lining the walls was the same. Untouched, almost, showing just how mundane money and prestige could be.

Walking quietly, Lucifer wound through the halls, going up one floor to his first destination. Amenadiel had been clear that Gabriel would be there, but Lucifer had no idea where on the entire compound he could be found at this time. It was morning, and if Gabriel was anything like he used to be, he surely would still be in his room, probably not alone. As he neared Gabriel's room, he could hear movement on the other side of the door. Being the person he was, Lucifer knew exactly what was going on in the room; the sounds of caveman grunts and high-pitched whines (which he liked to believe were faked) could be heard, as well as the unmistakable noise of a headboard hitting the wall repeatedly.

Readying himself, one curved blade in-hand, Lucifer opened the door silently, he peeked in through a few inches of space to see Gabriel's back towards him (_perfect_) and a pair of olive-toned legs, short and thin, jolting in the air by his hips. It was fucking perfect. The entire situation; lined-up for him on a fucking silver platter of rumpled sheets and sex.

He approached the bed just as quietly, and as soon as he could see the girl's eyes widen in surprise at his appearance over Gabriel's shoulder, Lucifer attacked. There was a shrill scream just as Lucifer wrapped an arm around Gabriel's neck and slid the blade between two of his older brother's ribs, turning the knife so that the curved edge could hook over ribs, a sort of handle for controlling the larger man. Lucifer quieted Gabriel's shout with a hand over his mouth, no longer needing to hold him by the neck; the blade in his side, no doubt piercing a lung, was all the leverage he needed.

"Don't make another sound," Lucifer warned the girl, who had pushed herself against the wall, desperately reaching for a sheet to cover her modesty with. Lucifer wasn't a monster, especially not to women, and he nodded towards the bedclothes for her to grab one to cover-up. Hyperventilating, she pressed the sheet to her front, back still pressed to the wall. He could feel hot, damp air panting against his hand, but Gabriel had gone silent, not one to give anyone the satisfaction of sounding pained. "Stay in here, you understand?" The girl nodded quickly; at least she understood orders from the family were meant to be followed.

Lucifer drug the naked Gabriel out of the room, applying pressure to the blade whenever he could feel the other man try to resist any movement. He kept his mouth covered, not wanting him to speak and blow their travel to the final destination. Lucifer wrangled him down the stairs, lifting all that weight when Gabriel's knees would give out. He used the knife to direct his brother, and it was the perfect tool for the job. A blade under the ribs, against a lung, was definitely a motivator in going where wanted. They got to the un-guarded doors to their Father's study/office. He was always in there, through all of Lucifer's years there, this was the only spot he saw his Father not outside of the home.

At the gold-leafed door, Lucifer nudged Gabriel's back, motioning for him to open the door. With a shaky hand, Gabriel opened it, even with a protesting sound behind Lucifer's hand. They burst into the office, where their Father was sitting, looking surprised and indifferent as the two stumbled to stand before the large desk. And, just like he remembered of their Father, he said nothing. Lucifer glared at the older man, pushing Gabriel down to his knees, bending so he could still have hold of the knife. Their Father still said nothing, instead, took in the scene before him, and simply stood behind his desk. Lucifer wasn't going to wait for something that wouldn't happen.

"Hello, Father," Lucifer greeted, all false sincerity and loathing laced in his words. "Missed me?" He took his hand from Gabriel's mouth, and relished in the labored breathing and blood staining his teeth.

"That friend of yours," Gabriel started, a wheeze coming out at the last word. "It took a while, but if you could get her to scream, she'd really fucking scream for you." Lucifer twisted the knife in his side, using his free hand to grab a handful of Gabriel's hair, holding his head up as he struggled to breathe around bitter words.

"Shut up," Lucifer commanded, voice even and stern, taking his eyes off his father to glance down at his brother. The fact that the other man was naked made this entire thing better, somehow, more humiliating; hopefully getting a taste of what he did to Maze. How he made her last moments feel.

"Felt so good," the eldest brother groaned, grimacing at the pain and his collapsing lung. "So fucking tight everywhere."

"Shut up!" Lucifer yelled, pulling up with the blade to break through a rib. It wasn't easy, but he felt the way bone gave to the sharp steel, the sound was pleasant and satisfying, too. Gabriel cried out at that, and Lucifer relished in how the sound echoed in their Father's office, much like it did in the man's empty heart.

"Lucifer," their Father finally spoke, but the younger son glared at him harshly, as his eyes started to blur.

"No, you don't get to speak yet!" Lucifer spat out, watching his Father raise an eyebrow before closing his mouth. It wasn't victory, and it wasn't submission. It was simply waiting for the show to be over.

"She played tough," Gabriel started again, coughing around some blood in his mouth, spitting it out on the ground, never giving in to his situation. "But I could see the fear in her eyes when she realized she was going to die there."

Black hatred fills Lucifer's chest, a raging ball of fire that he just couldn't hold inside anymore. "Shut THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, tilting his brother's head back by the hair, pulling the blade out of his side and slicing his throat open, deep, steel catching on cervical vertebrae as blood shot out, misting everywhere. For the first time in his life, Lucifer saw actual shock in his Father's eyes as he bent down to look Gabriel in the face as his blood drained out of him. Lucifer could feel hot fluid spray his face weakly as Gabriel looked at him with rage and disbelief in his eyes. The spurts turned to a trickle as the light left Gabriel's eyes, and Lucifer let his body fall to the ground with a thud.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, his breathing was coming quicker than he wanted, but the look on his Father's face made the feeling worth it. The righteous justification he felt for Maze made _everything_ worth it. It wouldn't bring her back, but he knew she was looking up at him with a wicked smile on her face, blood on her teeth, and fire in her veins. He sighed, long and hard, closing his eyes for a second to bask in that thought, of doing Maze proud, before bringing his attention back to his Father.

Lucifer moved to take a seat in one of the plush chairs in front of the desk, and his Father did the same, sitting down, his eyes never straying from the remaining son in the room. Lucifer wiped the curved blade off on his slacks, smiling at it like he would the original owner, before looking back up at the older man, blood on his face, looking all the monster that family made him. "I want to make a deal." Lucifer leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable, ready to negotiate his freedom from this poor excuse of a family. He told his father everything that had happened with Gabriel, about him threatening friends, killing Maze. His Father, the ever-pragmatic criminal, understood Lucifer's actions. That made Lucifer's stomach turn sour, the fact that a father could be okay with fratricide because it was "deserved".

In the end, two years of service, taking over Gabriel's tasks as well as reclaiming his role of enforcer, was far from the worst he'd ever done in his life. Two years of work for the ability to live the rest of his life free from the grip of his family was priceless, but it left a Chloe-shaped hole in his heart he knew he'd never be able to fill, not for a while, anyway.

* * *

The months felt like years, and Lucifer was deep into his work with his family. Amenadiel had never been found-out, and now Lucifer was able to see him without rousing suspicion. The family knew what Lucifer had done, and why, and they held a weary suspicion of him, as well as a healthy level of respect. They mostly steered clear of him, and he had no problems with that. He didn't want any of them anyway. He never saw Michael, though, and he never asked. That was a bridge he didn't want to cross, unsure if he could trust himself to not enact a punishment for him.

One thing that he was certain no one considered was Lucifer's part in undermining Golden Gate's entire system. Every few weeks, Lucifer met with an undercover individual from Interpol, since the family's work went outside of England, as well. He hadn't even told Amenadiel about this, but he did plan to tell him when to make sure he wasn't at the compound, and he had also struck a deal with Interpol for his brother. He covered all his bases.

It was well past 0200 when the car finally pulled up into the nearly empty parking lot of the gentlemen's club that had become their meeting spot. No questions asked kind of a place. Lucifer walked over to the car, wanting nothing more than to go shower and eat after the night he had had. He was sore from a fight, a struggle he was not anticipating, but he got his point across, and ensured no one tried to undercut him again.

Lucifer pulled out the folded envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, handing it over to the driver of the vehicle. The woman took it, noticing Lucifer's bloodied knuckles, bruised and broke skin, as he did so. "Have a little trouble?" The officer asked, opening the envelope to see a few pictures and receipts, proving purchase of "goods" from his Father.

"Well, not anymore," Lucifer quipped, smirking at the officer as he watched her rifle through the evidence he was able to swipe from his Father's study. He had bargained total immunity for himself and Amenadiel in exchange for a long-term job in providing Interpol evidence of his Father's _actual_ business transactions. So far, he had done so meticulously, and as soon as his two years were up, he and Amenadiel would be free to go live their lives free of any charges. This bargain didn't stop Lucifer from having to fulfill his Father's wishes, but Lucifer was angrier than he'd ever been, the violence was welcomed.

"So, two years are almost up," the woman stated, putting the envelope on the passenger seat. "What are you going to do when their locked away?" She looked at him, a genuine question and concern on her face. She had been the same officer to take Lucifer's collected evidence since he first went to Interpol, and they had a certain rapport with each other. One of the only women Lucifer hadn't slept with while getting close.

"Whatever the hell I want," Lucifer replied with a wry smile, tucking his hands into his pockets before walking back towards his own car. It wasn't a lie, it would be whatever he wanted to do; no one else needed to know the where and the _who_ was involved in that decision.

* * *

Chloe walked into the precinct with two coffees in hand. It had been about six months since she had gone from desk-duty to field work since coming back to the LAPD two years ago. She quickly stopped by the lab, giving Ella her overly sweet coffee, caffeine the small woman _did not _need. Ella smiled and mouthed "thank you" with her large headphones blaring her 90's jams as she worked. Chloe smiled back and headed to her desk. She was happy, truly happy with where she was. She was doing what she had always wanted to do, continuing to follow in her father's footsteps.

She was anxious for that day. Lt had asked her to take part in an experimental program the LAPD was running in order to help better their case turn-over rate. It sounded interesting, and her experience in the police force, as well as civilian life, lent to the decision that she was chosen to be the detective in the program. She was able to answer a few emails and drink through half her coffee before the Lt approached her desk.

"Good morning, Lt," Chloe greeted with a smile, standing up to shake his hand.

"Morning, Decker," The man greeted back, large smile on his face. "You ready to start this thing?"

"Of course, Sir, it seems like a great opportunity."

"It is, I was a bit skeptical, the idea of having a civilian partnering with a detective is definitely not something that would have happened in my day, but, times are changing," he said, crossing his arms over his chest in his typical stance. "I've been told the guy isn't without experience, he apparently helped Interpol take-down one of Britain's largest crime-syndicate families. His _own_ family, can you fucking believe that?" The Lt continued, and Chloe's heart suddenly jolted at the words. Her breath caught in her chest, but she knew better than to let those feelings make her feel anything. She had learned to ignore that a long time ago.

"His own family, Sir?" She asked, unable to stop the curiosity that was eating at her.

"Yeah, fuckin' nuts," the man said, exacerbated, sighing loudly. "Fresh out of that hell-hole, and really eager to start working. He should be here any minute now."

Everything around her stilled, as if the world suddenly stopped at the sight of movement just behind the Lt. Tall, dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, face more handsome than should be legal, and the only person she had lost hope of ever seeing again. She could see Ella off to the side, walking out, hand over her mouth, the human equivalent of the heart-eyes emoji. The only stimuli she could register were the sound of air rushing from her lungs, the visual of a bright smile, and relief washing over her like sunlight after years in the dark.

Lucifer. Salvation.

The promise of something more, something real, and something right, for both of them. All things that had not been possible before, but just his presence made the possibility of everything _right_ real. She could see that his eyes were just as watery as her own as he walked up, holding out his hand for her, like it was a do-over of their meeting.

"Well, Detective, shall we get to work?"

_**The End**_

* * *

**A/N: So… here we are. The End… I hope it was everything you could have imagined it to be. I hope you liked the happy and hopeful ending, thanks to Nadia (More-More). I've said it before, I originally was going to have either a sad or bitter-sweet ending, but this idea she gave me was perfect. So I went with it. **

**I wanted to address the reasoning behind Lucifer sleeping with the flight attendant before he landed in England. I know he had just left Chloe, and he knew he loved her (even if he couldn't admit it, even to himself) but Lucifer was never one to equate sex to love. It wasn't a normal thing for him. He knew it was different with Chloe, but that wouldn't stop him from partaking in other fruit unless explicitly discussed. It's all part of his psychology. **

**I wish I knew what to say other than thank you guys for sticking with me. I know I didn't update regularly, life just didn't work out like that for me, but I appreciate your patience and understanding. I hope you had as good a time as I did with this AU. I've teased it to a few, but I'm thinking of making this a series, with Closer being the main story, and one-shots thrown in the mix, snap-shotting their life together as Detective and Civilian-Consultant (who fuck frequently). What do you think?**

**[edit: It's a series now, in case you missed that *tips hat*]**

**Ideas? Prompts for that? ;)**

**Anyways, I've droned on long enough. Thank you guys, again. It's been a great ride, and for a while, I wasn't sure if I could finish this. Thankfully I have a great support system in a few friends and all of your lovely comments!**

**Until next time, Dark Ones…. xoxo**


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